Illlli  i  lllltiilll  if) 


lillilli.  Illlli  i 


nnHllfft   in  !  I   rtn  li  linilliTrlBHll  H  ill   l     itniTii!! 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


DE  QUINCEY'S   WRITINGS. 


THOMAS  DE  QUINCEY'S  WRITINGS. 

CONFESSIONS  OF  AN  ENGLISH  OPIUM-EATER,  AND  SUS- 

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rv 


THE    CiESAItS. 


PY 


THOMAS   DE  QUINCEY, 


ACfHOR    0? 


CONFESSIONS    OF  jiJV  E.YGUSII  OPIUM-EATER,   ETC.,  ETC 


.■  .       •        '      ' 


BOSTON: 
TICK  N  OR    AND    FIELD  S 

M  DCCC  LX. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by 

Ticknor  and  Fields, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  -^Ourt  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


-       <  .    *■       *  •  '     • 


* 


I  ft 


^ 


FROM  THE  AUTHOR,  TO  THE  AMERICAN  LDUOR  OF 
HIS  WORKS. 

These  papers  I  am  anxious  to  put  into  the  hands 
of  your  house,  and,  so  far  as  regards  the  U.  S.,  of 
your  house  exclusively  ;  not  with  any  view  to  further 
emolument,  but  as  an  acknowledgment  of  the  services 
which  you  have  already  rendered  me  ;  namely,  first,  in 
having  brought  together  so  widely  scattered  a  collcc- 
V  tion  —  a  difficulty  which  in  my  own  hands  by  too 
*  painful  an  experience  I  had  found  from  nervous  de- 
pression to  be  absolutely  insurmountable ;  secondly, 
in  having  made  me  a  participator  in  the  pecuniary 
profits  of  the  American  edition,  without  solicitation  or 
the  shadow  of  any  expectation  on  my  part,  without 
any  legal  claim  that  I  could  plead,  or  equitable  war- 
rant in  established  usage,  solely  and  merely  upon  your 
own  spontaneous  motion.  Some  of  these  new  papers, 
I  hope,  will  not  be  without  their  value  in  the  eyes  of 
those  who  have  taken  an  interest  in  the  original  scries. 
But  at  all  events,  good  or  bad,  they  are  now  tendered 
to  the  appropriation  of  your  individual  house,  the 
Messrs.  Tickxor  &  Fields,  according  to  the  amplest 

si  extent  of  any  power  to.  make  such  a  transfer  that 
I  may  be  found  to  possess  by  law  or  custom  in 
America. 

^j  I  wisli  this  transfer  were  likely  to  be  of  more  value. 

But  the  veriest  trifle,  interpreted  by  the  spirit  in  which 
I  oiler  it,  may  express  my  sense  of  the  liberality 
manifested  throughout  this  transaction  by  your  honor- 
able house. 

Ever  believe  me,  my  dear  sir. 

Your  faithful  and  obliged, 

THOMAS  DE   QUINCEY. 


THE   CAESARS. 

The  condition  of  the  Roman  Emperors  has  never 
yet  been  fully  appreciated  ;  nor  has  it  been  sufficiently 
perceived  in  what  respects  it  was  absolutely  unique. 
There  was  but  one  Rome  :  no  other  city,  as  we  are 
satisfied  by  the  collation  of  many  facts,  either  of 
ancient  or  modern  times,  has  ever  rivalled  this  as- 
tonishing metropolis  in  the  grandeur  of  magnitude ; 
and  not  many  —  if  we  except  the  cities  of  Greece, 
none  at  all  —  in  the  grandeur  of  architectural  dis- 
play. Speaking  even  of  London,  we  ought  in  all 
reason  to  say  —  the  Nation  of  London,  and  not  the 
City  of  London  ;  but  of  Rome  in  her  palmy  days, 
nothing  less  could  be  said  in  the  naked  severity  of 
logic.  A  million  and  a  half  of  souls  —  that  popu- 
lation, apart  from  any  other  distinctions,  is  per  se 
for  London,  a  justifying  ground  for  such  a  classifi- 
cation; a  fortiori,  then,  will  it  belong  to  a  city  which 
counted  from  one  horn  to  the  other  of  its  mighty 
suburbs  not  less  than  four  millions  of  inhabitants  l 
at  the  very  least,  as  we  resolutely  maintain  after 
reviewing    all    that    has   been   written   on   that   much 


10  THE    C^ESAHS. 

vexed  theme,  and  very  probably  half  as  many  more. 
Republican  Rome  had  her  'prerogative  tribe  ;  the  earth 
has  its  prerogative  city  ;    and  that  city  was  Rome. 

As  was  the  city,  such  was  its  prince  —  mysterious, 
solitary,  unique.  Each  was  to  the  otber  an  adequate 
counterpart,  each  reciprocally  that  perfect  mirror 
which  reflected  as  it  were  in  alia  materia,  those  in- 
communicable attributes  of  grandeur,  that  under  the 
same  shape  and  denomination  never  upon  this  earth 
were  destined  to  be  revived.  Rome  has  not  been  re- 
peated ;  neither  has  Csesar.  Ubi  Ccesar,  ibi  Roma, 
was  a  maxim  of  Roman  jurisprudence.  And  the 
same  maxim  may  be  translated  into  a  wider  mean- 
ing ;  in  which  it  becomes  true  also  for  our  historical 
experience.  Caesar  and  Rome  have  flourished  and 
expired  together.  The  illimitable  attributes  of  the 
Roman  prince,  boundless  and  comprehensive  as  the 
universal  air,  —  like  that  also  bright  and  apprehen- 
sible to  the  most  vagrant  eye,  yet  in  parts  (and  those 
not  far  removed)  unfathomable  as  outer  darkness, 
(for  no  chamber  in  a  dungeon  could  shroud  in  more 
impenetrable  concealment  a  deed  of  murder  than  the 
upper  chambers  of  the  air,)  —  these  attributes,  so 
impressive  to  the  imagination,  and  which  all  the 
subtlety  of  the  Roman2  wit  could  as  little  fathom  as 
the  fleets  of  Coesar  could  traverse  the  Polar  basin, 
or  unlock  the  gates  of  the  Pacific,  arc  best  sym- 
bolized,   and   find   their  most  appropriate  exponent,  in 


Till.    C.BSABS.  11 

the  illimitable  city  itself — that  Rome,  whose  centre, 
the  Capitol,  was  immovable  as  Tcueriffe  or  Atlas, 
but  whose  circumference  was  shadowy,  uncertain, 
restless,  and  advancing  as  the  frontiers  of  her  all- 
conquering  empire.  It  is  false  to  say,  that  with 
Caesar  came  the  destruction  of  Roman  greatness. 
Peace,  hollow  rhetoricians  !  Until  Caesar  came,  Rome 
was  a  minor  ;  by  him,  she  attained  her  majority,  and 
fulfilled  her  destiny.  Caius  Julius,  you  say,  de- 
flowered the  virgin  purity  of  her  civil  liberties. 
Doubtless,  then,  Rome  had  risen  immaculate  from 
the  arms  of  Sylla  and  of  Marius.  But,  if  it  were 
Caius  Julius  who  deflowered  Rome,  if  under  him  she 
forfeited  her  dowery  of  civic  purity,  if  to  him  she 
first  unloosed  her  maiden  zone,  then  be  it  affirmed 
boldly  —  that  she  reserved  her  greatest  favors  for 
the  noblest  of  her  wooers,  and  we  may  plead  the 
justification  of  Falconbridge  for  his  mother's  trans- 
gressions with  the  lion-hearted  king  —  such  a  sin  was 
self-ennobled.  Did  Julius  deflower  Rome?  Then,  by 
that  consummation,  he  caused  her  to  fulfil  the  func- 
tions of  her  nature  ;  he  compelled  her  to  exchange  the 
imperfect  and  inchoate  condition  of  a  mere  fcemhia  for 
the  perfections  of  a  mulier.  And  metaphor  apart, 
we  maintain  that  Rome  lost  no  liberties  by  the  mighty 
Julius.  That  which  in  tendency,  and  by  the  spirit  of 
her  institutions ;  that  which,  by  her  very  corruptions 
and  abuses  co-operating  with  her  laws,  Rome  promised 


12  THE    CESARS. 

and  involved  in  the  germ  ;  even  that,  and  nothing 
less  or  different,  did  Rome  unfold  and  accomplish 
under  this  Julian  violence.  The  rape  [if  such  it  were] 
of  Caesar,  her  final  Romulus,  completed  for  Rome  that 
which  the  rape  under  Romulus,  her  earliest  Caesar, 
had  prosperously  begun.  And  thus  by  one  godlike 
man  was  a  nation-city  matured  ;  and  from  the  ever- 
lasting and  nameless  3  city  was  a  man  produced  — 
capable  of  taming  her  indomitable  nature,  and  of 
forcing  her  to  immolate  her  wild  virginity  to  the  state 
best  fitted  for  the  destined  '  Mother  of  empires.' 
Peace,  then,  rhetoricians,  false  threnodists  of  false 
liberty  !  hollow  chanters  over  the  ashes  of  a  hollow 
republic  !  Without  Caesar,  we  affirm  a  thousand  times 
that  there  would  have  been  no  perfect  Rome  ;  and, 
but  for  Rome,  there  could  have  been  no  such  man  as 
Caesar. 

Both,  then,  were  immortal ;  each  worthy  of  each, 
and  the  Cui  viget  nihil  simile  aul  secundum  of  the 
poet,  was  as  true  of  one  as  of  the  other.  For,  if  by 
comparison  with  Rome  other  cities  were  but  villages, 
with  even  more  propriety  it  may  be  asserted,  that  after 
the  Roman  Caesars  all  modern  kings,  kesars,  or  empe- 
rors, are  mere  phantoms  of  royalty.  The  Caesar  of 
Western  Rome  —  he  only  of  all  earthly  potentates, 
past  or  to  come,  could  be  said  to  reign  as  a  monarch, 
that  is,  as  a  solitary  king.  He  was  not  the  greatest 
of  princes,  simply  because  there  was  no  other  but  him- 


THE    r.i.s.vitg.  13 

self.      There  were   doubtless  a  few  outlying  rulers,  of 
unknown   names  and   titles  upon   the    margins   of  his 
empire,  there  were  tributary  lieutenants  and  barbarous 
reguli,  the  obscure  vassals  of  his  sceptre,  whose  hom- 
age was  offered  on  the  lowest   step  of  his  throne,  and 
scarcely  known  to  him  but  as  objects  of  disdain.      But 
these  feudatories  could  no  more  break  the  unity  of  his 
empire,  which  embraced   the  whole  <\l/^ulr',i  —  the  total 
habitable  world  as  then  known  to  geography,  or  recog- 
nized by  the  muse   of  History  —  than  at  this  day  the 
British  empire  on  the  sea  can  be  brought  into  question 
or   made  conditional,   because   some  chief  of  Owyhee 
or  Tongataboo  should  proclaim  a  momentary  indepen- 
dence of   the  British  trident,   or  should  even  offer  a 
transient  outrage  to  her  sovereign  flag.     Such  a  tem- 
pestas  in  matula  might  raise  a  brief  uproar  in  his  little 
native  archipelago,  but  too   feeble   to  reach  the  shores 
of  Europe  by  an  echo  —  or  to  ascend  by  so  much  as 
an  infantine  susurrus  to  the  cars  of  the  British  Xeptune. 
Parthia,  it  is  true,  might  pretend  to   the  dignity  of  an 
empire.     But  her  sovereigns,  though  sitting  in  the  seat 
of  the  great  king,  (d  famiii ;,)  were  no  longer  the  rulers 
of  a  vast  and  polished  nation.      They  were  regarded  as 
barbarians  —  potent  only  by   their  standing  army,  not 
upon  the  larger  basis  of  civic  strength  ;  and,  even  under 
this  limitation,  they  were  supposed  to  owe  more  to  the 
circumstances  of  their  position  —  their  climate,   their 
remoteness,  and  their    inaccessibility    except    through 


14  THE    CiESARS. 

arid  and  sultry  deserts  —  than  to  intrinsic  resources, 
such  as  could  he  permanently  relied  on  in  a  serious 
trial  of  strength  between  the  two  powers.  The  kings 
of  Parthia,  therefore,  were  far  enough  from  being 
regarded  in  the  light  of  antagonistic  forces  to  the 
majesty  of  Rome.  And,  these  withdrawn  from  the 
comparison,  who  else  was  there  —  what  prince,  what 
king,  what  potentate  of  any  denomination,  to  break  the 
universal  calm,  that  through  centuries  continued  to 
lave,  as  with  the  quiet  undulations  of  summer  lakes, 
the  sacred  footsteps  of  the  Coesarean  throne  ?  The 
Byzantine  court  which,  merely  as  the  inheritor  of 
some  fragments  from  that  august  throne,  was  drunk 
with  excess  of  pride,  surrounded  itself  with  elaborate 
expressions  of  grandeur  beyond  what  mortal  eyes 
were  supposed  able  to  sustain. 

These  fastidious,  and  sometimes  fantastic  ceremo- 
nies, originally  devised  as  the  very  extremities  of 
an ti- barbarism,  were  often  themselves  but  too  nearly 
allied  in  spirit  to  the  barbaresque  in  taste.  In  reality, 
some  parts  of  the  Byzantine  court  ritual  were  arranged 
in  the  same  spirit  as  that  of  China  or  the  Burman  em- 
pire ;  or  fashioned  by  anticipation,  as  one  might  think, 
on  the  practice  of  that  Oriental  Cham,  who  daily 
proclaims  by  sound  of  trumpet  to  the  kings  in  the 
four  corners  of  the  earth  —  that  they,  having  dutifully 
awaited  the  close  of  his  dinner,  may  now  with  his 
royal  license  go  to  their  own. 


tin;    CJESAB8.  15 

From  such  vestiges  of  derivative  grandeur,  propa- 
gated to  ages  so  remote  from  itself,  and  sustained  by 
manners  so  different  from  the  spirit  of  her  own,  — 
we  may  faintly  measure  the  strength  of  the  original 
impulse  given  to  the  feelings  of  men  by  the  sacred 
majesty  of  the  Roman  throne.  How  potent  must  that 
splendor  bare  been,  whose  mere  reflection  shot  rays 
upon  a  distant  crown,  under  another  heaven,  and 
across  the  wilderness  of  fourteen  centuries  !  Splen- 
dor, thus  transmitted,  thus  sustained,  and  thus  imper- 
ishable, argues  a  transcendent  in  the  basis  of  radical 
power.  Broad  and  deep  must  those  foundations  have 
been  laid,  which  could  support  an  '  arch  of  empire ' 
rising  to  tbat  giddy  altitude  —  an  altitude  which  suf- 
ficed to  bring  it  within  the  ken  of  posterity  to  the 
sixtieth  generation. 

Power  is  measured  by  resistance.  Upon  such  a 
scale,  if  it  were  applied  with  skill,  the  relations  of 
greatness  in  Rome  to  the  greatest  of  all  that  has  gone 
before  her,  and  has  yet  come  after  her,  would  first  be 
adequately  revealed.  The  youngest  reader  will  know 
that  the  grandest  forms  in  which  the  collective  might 
of  the  human  race  has  manifested  itself,  are  the  four 
monarchies.  Four  times  have  the  distributive  forces 
of  nations  gathered  themselves,  under  the  strong  com- 
pression of  the  sword,  into  mighty  aggregates  —  de- 
nominated  Universal  Empires,  or  Monarchies.  These 
are  noticed  in  the   Holy  Scriptures;  and   it   is   upon 


16  THE    CJSSARS. 

their  warrant  that  men  have  supposed  no  fifth  mon- 
archy or  universal  empire  possible  in  an  earthly  sense ; 
but  that,  whenever  such  an  empire  arises,  it  will  have 
Christ  for  its  head ;  in  other  words,  that  no  fifth 
monorchia  can  take  place  until  Christianity  shall  have 
swallowed  up  all  other  forms  of  religion,  and  shall 
have  gathered  the  whole  family  of  man  into  one  fold 
under  one  all-conquering  Shepherd.  Hence4  the  fa- 
natics of  1650,  who  proclaimed  Jesus  for  their  king, 
and  who  did  sincerely  anticipate  his  near  advent  in 
great  power,  and  under  some  personal  manifestation, 
were  usually  styled  Fifth- Monarchists. 

However,  waiving  the  question  (interesting  enough 
in  itself)  —  Whether  upon  earthly  principles  a  fifth 
universal  empire  could  by  possibility  arise  in  the 
present  condition  of  knowledge  for  man  individually, 
and  of  organization  for  man  in  general  —  this  question 
waived,  and  confining  ourselves  to  the  comparison  of 
those  four  monarchies  which  actually  have  existed,  — 
of  the  Assyrian  or  earliest,  we  may  remark,  that  it 
found  men  in  no  state  of  cohesion.  This  cause,  which 
came  in  aid  of  its  first  foundation,  would  probably  con- 
tinue ;  and  would  diminish  the  intensity  of  the  power 
in  the  same  proportion  as  it  promoted  its  extension. 
This  monarchy  would  be  absolute  only  by  the  personal 
presence  of  the  monarch ;  elsewhere,  from  mere  defect 
of  organization,  it  would  and  must  betray  the  total 
imperfections  of    an   elementary  state,  and  of   a  first 


THE    C.ESAUS.  17 

experiment.  More  by  the  weakness  inherent  in  such 
a  constitution,  than  by  its  own  strength,  did  the 
Persian  spear  prevail  against  the  Assyrian.  Two 
centuries  revolved,  seven  or  eight  generations,  when 
Alexander  found  himself  in  the  same  position  as  Cyrus 
for  building  a  third  monarchy,  and  aided  by  the  self- 
same vices  of  luxurious  effeminacy  in  his  enemy,  con- 
fronted with  the  self-same  virtues  of  enterprise  and 
hardihood  in  his  compatriot  soldiers.  The  native 
Persians,  in  the  earliest  and  very  limited  import  of  that 
name,  were  a  poor  and  hardy  race  of  mountaineers. 
So  were  the  men  of  Macedon ;  and  neither  one  tribe 
nor  the  other  found  any  adequate  resistance  in  the 
luxurious  occupants  of  Babylonia.  We  may  add  with 
respect  to  these  two  earliest  monarchies,  that  the  As- 
syrian was  undefined  with  regard  to  space,  and  the 
Persian  fugitive  with  regard  to  time.  But  for  the 
third  —  the  Grecian  or  Macedonian  —  we  know  that 
the  arts  of  civility,  and  of  civil  organization,  had  made 
great  progress  before  the  Roman  strength  was  measured 
against  it.  In  Macedon,  in  Achaia,  in  Syria,  in  Asia 
Minor,  in  Egypt,  —  everywhere  the  members  of  this 
Empire  have  begun  to  knit ;  the  cohesion  was  far 
closer,  the  development  of  their  resources  more  com- 
plete ;  the  resistance  therefore  by  many  hundred  de- 
grees more  formidable :  consequently,  by  the  fairest 
inference,  the  power  in  that  proportion  greater  which 
laid  the  foundation  of  this  last  great  monarchy.  It  is 
2 


18  THE    C.ESARS. 

probable,  indeed,  both  a  priori,  and  upon  the  evidence 
of  various  facts  which  have  survived,  that  each  of  the 
four  great  empires  successively  triumphed  over  an 
antagonist,  barbarous  in  comparison  of  itself,  and  each 
by  and  through  that  very  superiority  in  the  arts  and 
policy  of  civilization. 

Rome,  therefore,  which  came  last  in  the  succession, 
and  swallowed  up  the  three  great  powers  that  had 
seriatim  cast  the  human  race  into  one  mould,  and  had 
brought  them  under  the  unity  of  a  single  will,  entered 
by  inheritance  upon  all  that  its  predecessors  in  that 
career  had  appropriated,  but  in  a  condition  of  far 
ampler  development.  Estimated  merely  by  longitude 
and  latitude,  the  territory  of  the  Roman  empire  was 
the  finest  by  much  that  has  ever  fallen  under  a  single 
sceptre.  Amongst  modern  empires,  doubtless,  the 
Spanish  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  the  British  of 
the  present,  cannot  but  be  admired  as  prodigious 
growths  out  of  so  small  a  stem.  In  that  view  they 
will  be  endless  monuments  in  attestation  of  the  mar- 
vels which  are  lodged  in  civilization.  But  considered 
in  and  for  itself,  and  with  no  reference  to  the  propor- 
tion of  the  creating  forces,  each  of  these  empires  has 
the  great  defect  of  being  disjointed,  and  even  insus- 
ceptible of  perfect  union.  It  is  in  fact  no  vinculum  of 
social  organization  which  held  them  together,  but  the 
ideal  vinculum  of  a  common  fealty,  and  of  submission 
to  the  same  sceptre.     This  is  not  like  the  tie  of  man- 


THE    C.2ESABB.  19 

n  is,  operative  even  where  it  is  not  perceived,  but  like 
the  distinctions  of  geography  —  existing  to-day,  for- 
gotten to-morrow  —  and  abolished  by  a  stroke  of  the 
pen,  or  a  trick  of  diplomacy.  Russia,  again,  a  mighty 
empire  as  respects  the  simple  grandeur  of  magnitude, 
builds  her  power  upon  sterility,  She  has  it  in  her 
power  to  seduce  an  invading  foe  into  vast  circles  oi 
starvation,  of  which  the  radii  measure  a  thousand 
leagues.  Frost  and  snow  are  confederates  of  her 
strength.  She  is  strong  by  her  very  weakness.  But 
Rome  laid  a  belt  about  the  Mediterranean  of  a  thou- 
sand miles  in  breadth  ;  and  within  that  zone  she  com- 
prehended not  only  all  the  great  cities  of  the  ancient 
world,  but  so  perfectly  did  she  lay  the  garden  of  the 
world  in  every  climate,  and  for  every  mode  of  natural 
wealth,  within  her  own  ring-fence,  that  since  that  era 
no  land,  no  part  and  parcel  of  the  Roman  empire,  has 
ever  risen  into  strength  and  opulence,  except  where 
unusual  artificial  industry  has  availed  to  counteract 
the  tendencies  of  nature.  So  entirely  had  Rome  en- 
grossed whatsoever  was  rich  by  the  mere  bounty  of 
native  endowment. 

Vast,  therefore,  unexampled,  immeasurable,  was  the 
basis  of  natural  power  upon  which  the  Roman  throne 
reposed.  The  military  force  which  put  Rome  in  pos- 
session of  this  inordinate  power,  was  certainly  in  some 
respects  artificial;  but  the  power  itself  was  natural, 
and  not  subject  to  the  ebbs  and  flows  which  attend  the 


20  THE    C.ESAUS. 

commercial  empires  of  our  days,  (for  all  are  in  part 
commercial.)  The  depression,  the  reverses,  of  Rome, 
were  confined  to  one  shape  —  famine  ;  terrific  shape, 
douhtless,  hut  one  which  levies  its  penalty  of  suffering 
not  by  elaborate  processes  that  do  not  exhaust  their 
total  cycle  in  less  than  long  periods  of  years.  Fortu- 
nately for  those  who  survive,  no  arrears  of  misery  are 
allowed  by  this  scourge  of  ancient  days  ;  5  the  total 
penalty  is  paid  down  at  once.  As  respected  the  hand 
of  man,  Rome  slept  for  ages  in  absolute  security.  She 
could  suffer  only  by  the  wrath  of  Providence  ;  and,  so 
long  as  she  continued  to  be  Rome,  for  many  a  genera- 
tion she  only  of  all    the   monarchies    has    feared    no 

mortal  hand,6 

'  God  and  his  Son  except, 

Created  thing  naught  valued  she  nor  shunned. ' 

That  the  possessor  and  wielder  of  such  enormous 
power — power  alike  admirable  for  its  extent,  for  its 
intensity,  and  for  its  consecration  from  all  counter- 
forces  which  could  restrain  it,  or  endander  it  —  should 
be  regarded  as  sharing  in  the  attributes  of  supernatural 
beings,  is  no  more  than  might  naturally  be  expected. 
All  other  known  power  in  human  hands  has  either 
been  extensive,  but  wanting  in  intensity  —  or  intense, 
but  wanting  in  extent  —  or,  thirdly,  liable  to  perma- 
nent control  and  hazard  from  some  antagonist  power 
commensurate  with  itself.  But  the  Roman  power,  in 
its    centuries  of   grandeur,    involved    every   mode   of 


THE    CJE8AB8.  21 

strength,  witli  absolute  Immunity  from  all   kinds  and 

degrees  of  weakness.  It  ought  not,  therefore,  to  surprise 
us  that  the  emperor,  as  the  depositary  of  this  charmed 
power,  should  have  been  looked  upon  as  a  sacred  per- 
son, and  the  imperial  family  considered  as  a  '  divina 
domus.'  It  is  an  error  to  regard  this  as  excess  of 
adulation,  or  as  built  originally  upon  hypocrisy.  Un- 
doubtedly the  expressions  of  this  feeling  are  sometimes 
gross  and  overcharged,  as  we  find  them  in  the  very 
greatest  of  the  Roman  poets  :  for  example,  it  shocks 
us  to  find  a  fine  writer,  in  anticipating  the  future  can- 
onization of  liis  patron,  and  his  enstalment  amongst 
the  heavenly  hosts,  begging  him  to  keep  his  distance 
warily  from  this  or  that  constellation,  and  to  be  cau- 
tious of  throwing  his  weight  into  either  hemisphere, 
until  the  scale  of  proportions  were  accurately  adjusted. 
These  doubtless  arc  passages  degrading  alike  to  the 
poet  and  his  subject.  But  why  ?  Not  because  they 
ascribe  to. the  emperor  a  sanctity  which  he  had  not  in 
the  minds  of  men  universally,  or  which  even  to  the 
writer's  feeling  was  exaggerated,  but  because  it  was  ex- 
pressed coarsely,  and  as  a  physical  power  :  now,  every- 
thing physical  is  measurable  by  weight,  motion,  and 
resistance  ;  and  is  therefore  definite.  But  the  very  es- 
sence of  whatsoever  is  supernatural  lies  in  the  indefinite. 
That  power,  therefore,  with  which  the  minds  of  men 
invested  the  emperor,  was  vulgarized  by  this  coarse 
translation  into  the  region  of  physics.      Else  it  is  evi- 


22  THE    CiESAttS. 

dent,  that  any  power  which,  hy  standing  ahove  all 
human  control,  occupies  the  next  relation  to  superhu- 
man modes  of  authority,  must  be  invested  by  all 
minds  alike  with  some  dim  and  undefined  relation  to 
the  sanctities  of  the  next  world.  Thus,  for  instance, 
the  Pope,  as  the  father  of  Catholic  Christendom,  could 
not  but  be  viewed  with  awe  by  any  Christian  of  deep 
feeling,  as  standing  in  some  relation  to  the  true  and 
unseen  Father  of  the  spiritual  body.  Nay,  considering 
that  even  false  religions,  as  those  of  Pagan  mythology, 
have  probably  never  been  utterly  stripped  of  all  ves- 
tige of  truth,  but  that  every  such  mode  of  error  has 
perhaps  been  designed  as  a  process,  and  adapted  by 
Providence  to  the  case  of  those  who  were  capable  oi 
admitting  no  more  perfect  shape  of  truth ;  even  the 
heads  of  such  superstitions  (the  Dalai  Lama,  for  in- 
stance) may  not  unreasonably  be  presumed  as  within 
the  cognizance  and  special  protection  of  Heaven. 
Much  more  may  this  be  supposed  of  him  to  whose  care 
was  confided  the  weightier  part  of  the  human  race ; 
who  had  it  in  his  power  to  promote  or  to  suspend  the 
progress  of  human  improvement ;  and  of  whom,  and 
the  motions  of  whose  will,  the  very  prophets  of  Judea 
took  cognizance.  No  nation,  and  no  king,  was  utterly 
divorced  from  the  councils  of  God.  Palestine,  as  a 
central  chamber  of  God's  administration,  stood  in 
some  relation  to  all.  It  has  been  remarked,  as  a  mys- 
terious  and   significant  fact,  that  the  founders  of  the 


THE    CJESABS  23 

great  empires  all  had  some  connection,  more  or  less, 
with  the  temple  of  Jerusalem.  Mclancthon  even  ob- 
serves it  in  his  Sketch  of  Universal  History,  as  worthy 
of  notice  —  that  Pompey  died,  as  it  were,  within  sight 
of  that  very  temple  which  he  had  polluted.  Let  us 
not  suppose  that  Paganism,  or  Pagan  nations,  were 
therefore  excluded  from  the  concern  and  tender  inter- 
est of  Heaven.  They  also  had  their  place  allowed. 
And  we  may  be  sure  that,  amongst  them,  the  Roman 
emperor,  as  the  great  accountant  for  the  happiness  of 
more  men,  and  men  more  cultivated,  than  ever  before 
were  intrusted  to  the  motions  of  a  single  will,  had  a 
special,  singular,  and  mysterious  relation  to  the  secret 
counsels  of  Heaven. 

Even  we,  therefore,  may  lawfully  attribute  some 
sanctity  to  the  Roman  emperor.  That  the  Romans 
did  so  with  absolute  sincerity  is  certain.  The  altars 
of  the  emperor  had  a  twofold  consecration  ;  to  violate 
them,  was  the  double  crime  of  treason  and  heresy.  In 
his  appearances  of  state  and  ceremony,  the  fire,  the 
sacred  fire  t  io/.i  ttvt,  was  carried  in  ceremonial  solemnity 
before  him  ;  and  every  other  circumstance  of  divine 
worship  attended  the  emperor  in  his  lifetime.7 

To  this  view  of  the  imperial  character  and  relations 
must  be  added  one  single  circumstance,  which  in  some 
measure  altered  the  whole  for  the  individual  who 
happened  to  fill  the  office.  The  emperor  dc  facto 
might  be  viewed  under  two  aspects  ;    there   was   the 


24  THfi    C.ESARS. 

man,  and  there  was  the  office.  In  his  office  he  was 
immortal  and  sacred  :  but  as  a  question  might  still 
be  raised,  by  means  of  a  mercenary  army,  as  to  the 
claims  of  the  particular  individual  who  at  any  time 
filled  the  office,  the  very  sanctity  and  privilege  of  the 
character  with  which  he  was  clothed  might  actually  be 
turned  against  himself;  and  here  it  is,  at  this  point, 
that  the  character  of  Roman  emperor  became  truly 
and  mysteriously  awful.  Gibbon  has  taken  notice  of 
the  extraordinary  situation  of  a  subject  in  the  Roman 
empire  who  should  attempt  to  fly  from  the  wrath  of 
the  crown.  Such  was  the  ubiquity  of  the  emperor 
that  this  was  absolutely  hopeless.  Except  amongst 
pathless  deserts  or  barbarous  nomads,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  find  even  a  transient  sanctuary  from  the  imperial 
pursuit.  If  he  went  down  to  the  sea,  there  he  met  the 
emperor  :  if  he  took  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and 
fled  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  there  also  was 
the  emperor  or  his  lieutenants.  But  the  same  omni- 
presence of  imperial  anger  and  retribution  which  with- 
ered the  hopes  of  the  poor  humble  prisoner,  met  and 
confounded  the  emperor  himself,  when  hurled  from  his 
giddy  elevation  by  some  fortunate  rival.  All  the  king- 
doms of  the  earth,  to  one  in  that  situation,  became  but 
so  many  wards  of  the  same  infinite  prison.  Flight,  if 
it  were  even  successful  for  the  moment,  did  but  a  little 
retard  his  inevitable  doom.  And  so  evident  was  this, 
that  hardly  in  one  instance  did  the  fallen  prince  attempt 


TILE     C3CSAIIS.  25 

to  fly,  but  passively  met  the  death  which  was  inevitable, 
in  the  very  spot  where  ruin  had  overtaken  him.  Nei- 
ther was  it  possible  even  for  a  merciful  conqueror  to 
show  mercy  ;  for,  in  the  presence  of  an  army  so  mer- 
cenary and  factious,  his  own  safety  was  but  too  deeply 
involved  in  the  extermination  of  rival  pretenders  to 
the  crown. 

Such,  amidst  the  sacred  security  and  inviolability  of 
the  office,  was  the  hazardous  tenure  of  the  individual. 
Nor  did  his  dangers  always  arise  from  persons  in  the 
rank  of  competitors  and  rivals.  Sometimes  it  menaced 
him  in  quarters  which  his  eye  had  never  penetrated, 
and  from  enemies  too  obscure  to  have  reached  his  ear. 
By  way  of  illustration  we  will  cite  a  case  fiom  the  life 
of  the  Emperor  Commodus,  which  is  wild  enough  to 
have  furnished  the  plot  of  a  romance  —  though  as  well 
authenticated  as  any  other  passage  in  that  reign.  The 
story  is  narrated  by  Hcrodian,  and  the  circumstances 
are  these  :  —  A  slave  of  noble  qualities,  and  of  mag- 
nificent person,  having  liberated  himself  from  the 
degradations  of  bondage,  determined  to  avenge  his 
own  wrongs  by  inflicting  continual  terror  upon  the 
town  and  neighborhood  which  had  witnessed  his  hu- 
miliation. For  this  purpose  he  resorted  to  the  woody 
recesses  of  the  province,  (somewhere  in  the  modern 
Transylvania,)  and,  attracting  to  his  wild  encampment 
as  many  fugitives  as  he  could,  by  degrees  he  succeeded 
in  forming  and  training  a  very  formidable  troop  of  frce- 
3 


26  THE    C.ESARS. 

booters.  Partly  from  the  energy  of  his  own  nature, 
and  partly  from  the  neglect  and  remissness  of  the  pro- 
vincial magistrates,  the  robber  captain  rose  from  less  to 
more,  until  he  had  formed  a  little  army,  equal  to  the 
task  of  assaulting  fortified  cities.  In  this  stage  of  his 
adventures,  he  encountered  and  defeated  several  of 
the  imperial  officers  commanding  large  detachments  of 
troops  ;  and  at  length  grew  of  consequence  sufficient  to 
draw  upon  himself  the  emperor's  eye,  and  the  honor  of 
his  personal  displeasure.  In  high  wrath  and  disdain  at 
the  insults  offered  to  his  eagles  by  this  fugitive  slave, 
Commodus  fulminated  against  him  such  an  edict  as  left 
him  no  hope  of  much  longer  escaping  with  impunity. 

Public  vengeance  was  now  awakened  ;  the  imperial 
troops  were  marching  from  every  quarter  upon  the 
same  centre  ;  and  the  slave  became  sensible  that  in  a 
very  short  space  of  time  he  must  be  surrounded  and 
destroyed.  In  this  desperate  situation  he  took  a  des- 
perate resolution  :  he  assembled  his  troops,  laid  before 
them  his  plan,  concerted  the  various  steps  for  carrying 
it  into  effect,  and  then  dismissed  them  as  independent 
wanderers.     So  ends  the  first  chapter  of  the  tale. 

The  next  opens  in  the  passes  of  the  AIjjs,  whither 
by  various  routes,  of  seven  or  eight  hundred  miles  in 
extent,  these  men  had  threaded  their  way  in  manifold 
disguises  through  the  very  midst  of  the  emperor's 
camps.  According  to  this  man's  gigantic  enterprise, 
in  which  the  means  were  as  audacious  as  the  purpose, 


i  ii  i.  i  £s  uas.  27 

tin-  conspirators  were  to  rendezvous,  and  first  to  recog- 
nize each  other  at  the  gates  of  Rome.  From  the  Danube 
to  the  Tilier  did  this  hand  of  robbers  severally  pursue 
their  perilous  routes  through  all  the  difficulties  of  the 
mad  and  the  jealousies  of  the  military  stations,  sus- 
tained by  the  mere  thirst  of  vengeance  —  veng<  ance 
against  that  mighty  foe  whom  they  knew  only  by  his 
proclamations  against  themselves.  Everything  con- 
tinued tn  prosper;  the  conspirators  met  under  the  walls 
of  Rome  ;  the  final  details  were  arranged  ;  and  those 
also  would  have  prospered  but  for  a  trifling  accident. 
The  season  was  one  of  general  carnival  at  Rome  ;  and, 
by  the  help  of  those  disguises  which  the  license  of  this 
festal  time  allowed,  the  murderers  were  to  have  pene- 
trated as  maskers  to  the  emperor's  retirement,  when  a 
casual  word  or  two  awoke  the  suspicions  of  a  sentinel. 
One  of  the  conspirators  was  arrested  ;  under  the  terror 
and  uncertainty  of  the  moment  he  made  much  ampler 
discoveries  than  were  expected  of  him  ;  the  other 
accomplices  were  secured  :  and  Commodus  was  deliv- 
ered from  the  uplifted  daggers  of  those  who  had  sought 
him  by  months  of  patient  wanderings,  pursued  through 
all  the  depths  of  the  Illyrian  forests,  and  the  difficulties 
of  the  Alpine  passes.  It  is  not  easy  to  find  words  com- 
mensurate to  the  energetic  hardihood  of  a  slave  —  who, 
by  way  of  answer  and  reprisal  to  an  edict  which  con 
signed  him  to  persecution  and  death,  determines  to 
cross  Europe  in  quest   of  its  author,  though  no  less  a 


28  IHE     C^SARS. 

person  than  the  master  of  the  world  —  to  seek  him  out 
in  the  inner  recesses  of  his  capital  city  and  his  private 
palace  —  and  there  to  lodge  a  dagger  in  his  heart,  as 
the  adequate  reply  to  the  imperial  sentence  of  proscrip- 
tion against  himself. 

Such,  amidst  his  superhuman  grandeur  and  cor.se- 
crated  powers  of  the  Roman  emperor's  office,  were  the 
extraordinary  perils  which  menaced  the  individual,  and 
the  peculiar  frailties  of  his  condition.  Nor  is  it  possi- 
ble that  these  circumstances  of  violent  opposition  can 
be  better  illustrated  than  in  this  tale  of  Herodian. 
Whilst  the  emperor's  mighty  arms  were  stretched  out 
to  arrest  some  potentate  in  the  heart  of  Asia,  a  poor 
slave  is  silently  and  stealthily  creeping  round  the  base 
of  the  Alps,  with  the  purpose  of  winning  his  way  as  a 
murderer  to  the  imperial  bedchamber ;  Csesar  is  watch- 
ing some  mighty  rebel  of  the  Orient,  at  a  distance  of 
two  thousand  leagues,  and  he  overlooks  the  dagger 
which  is  at  his  own  heart.  In  short,  all  the  heights 
and  the  depths  which  belong  to  man  as  aspirers,  all  the 
contrasts  of  glory  and  meanness,  the  extremities  of 
what  is  highest  and  lowest  in  human  possibility,  —  all 
met  in  the  situation  of  the  Roman  Caesars,  and  have 
combined  to  make  them  the  most  interesting  studies 
which  history  has  furnished. 

This,  as  a  general  proposition,  will  be  readily  ad- 
mitted. But  meantime,  it  is  remarkable  that  no  field 
has  been  less  trodden  than  the  private  memorials  of 


I  III      <     1  -\  LIS.  2(J 

tliose  very  Caesars ;  whilst  at  the  same  time  it  is  equally 
remarkable,  in  concurrence  with  that  subject  for  won- 
der,  that  precisely  with  the  first  of  the  Caesars  com- 
mences the  first  page  of  what  in  modern  times  we 
understand  by  anecdotes.  Suetonius  is  the  earliest 
writer  in  that  department  of  biography  ;  so  far  as  we 
know,  he  may  be  held  first  to  have  devised  it  as  a 
mode  of  history.  The  six  writers,  whose  sketches 
arc  collected  under  the  general  title  of  the  Augustan 
History,  followed  in  the  same  track.  Though  full  of 
entertainment,  and  of  the  most  curious  researches, 
they  are  all  of  them  entirely  unknown,  except  to  a 
few  elaborate  scholars.  We  purpose  to  collect  from 
these  obscure  but  most  interesting  memorialists,  a  few 
sketches  and  biographical  portraits  of  these  great 
princes,  whose  public  life  is  sometimes  known,  but 
very  rarely  any  part  of  their  private  and  personal 
history.  Wc  must,  of  course,  commence  with  the 
mighty  founder  of  the  Caesars.  In  his  case  wc  cannot 
expect  so  much  of  absolute  novelty  as  in  that  of  those 
who  succeed.  But  if,  in  this  first  instance,  we  are 
forced  to  touch  a  little  upon  old  things,  we  shall  con- 
fine ourselves  as  much  as  possible  to  those  which  are 
susceptible  of  new  aspects.  For  the  whole  gallery  of 
those  who  follow,  we  can  undertake  that  the  memorials 
which  we  shall  bring  forward,  may  be  looked  upon  as 
belonging  pretty  much  to  what  has  hitherto  been  a 
sealed  book. 


30  THE    C^KSAKS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

The  character  of  the  first  Csesar  has  perhaps  never 
been  worse  appreciated  than  by  him  who  in  one  sense 
described  it  best  —  that  is,  with  most  force  and  elo- 
quence wherever  he  really  did  comprehend  it.  This 
was  Lucan,  who  has  nowhere  exhibited  more  brilliant 
rhetoric,  nor  wandered  more  from  the  truth,  than  in 
the  contrasted  portraits  of  Coesar  and  Pompey.  The 
famous  line,  '  Nil  actum  reputans  si  quid  superesset 
agendum]  is  a  fine  feature  of  the  real  character,  finely 
expressed.  But  if  it  had  been  Lucan's  purpose  (as 
possibly,  with  a  view  to  Pompey's  benefit,  in  some 
respects  it  was)  utterly  and  extravagantly  to  falsify 
the  character  of  the  great  Dictator,  by  no  single  trait 
could  he  more  effectually  have  fulfilled  that  purpose, 
nor  in  fewer  words,  than  by  this  expressive  passage, 
'  Gaudensque  viam  fecisse  ruind."1  Such  a  trait  would 
be  almost  extravagant  applied  even  to  Marius,  who 
(though  in  many  respects  a  perfect  model  of  Roman 
grandeur,  massy,  columnar,  imperturbable,  and  more 
perhaps  than  any  one  man  recorded  in  history  capable 
of  justifying  the  bold  illustration  of  that  character  in 
Horace,  '  Sifractus  illalatur  orhis,  impavidum  ferient 


ill  i;    <■  ESAE8.  31 

ruinee,)  had,  however,  a  ferocity  in  his  character,  and  a 

touch  of  the  devil  in  him,  very  rarely  united  with  the 
Bame  tranquil  intrepidity.  But  for  Caesar,  the  all- 
accomplished  statesman,  the  splendid  orator,  the  man 
of  elegant  habits  and  polished  taste,  the  patron  of  the 
fine  arts  in  a  degree  transcending  all  examples  of  his 
own  or  the  previous  age,  and  as  a  man  of  general 
literature  so  much  beyond  his  contemporaries,  except 
Cicero,  that  he  looked  down  even  upon  the  brilliant 
Sylla  as  an  illiterate  person,  —  to  class  such  a  man 
with  the  race  of  furious  destroyers  exulting  in  the 
desolation-;  they  spread,  is  to  err  not  by  an  individual 
trait,  but  by  the  whole  genus.  The  Attilas  and  the 
Tamcrlancs,  who  rejoice  in  avowing  themselves  the 
scourges  of  God,  and  the  special  instruments  of  his 
wrath,  have  no  one  feature  of  affinity  to  the  polished 
and  humane  Caesar,  and  would  as  little  have  comprC' 
hended  his  character,  as  he  could  have  respected  theirs. 
Even  Cato,  the  unworthy  hero  of  Lucan,  might  have 
suggested  to  him  a  little  more  truth  in  this  instance, 
by  a  celebrated  remark  which  he  made  on  the  charac- 
teristic distinction  of  Ca  sar,  in  comparison  with  other 
revolutionary  disturbers ;  for,  whereas  others  had  at- 
tempted the  overthrow  of  the  state  in  a  continued 
paroxysm  of  fury,  and  in  a  state  of  mind  resembling 
the  lunacy  of  intoxication,  that  Caesar,  on  the  contrary, 
among  that  whole  class  of  civil  disturbers,  was  the  only 
one  who  had  come  to  the  task   in  a  temper  of  sobriety 


32  THE    CAESARS. 

and  moderation,  (unum  accessisse  sobrium  ad  rcmpuhli' 
cam  delendam.) 

In  reality,  Lucan  did  not  think  as  he  wrote.  He 
had  a  purpose  to  serve ;  and  in  an  age  when  to  act 
like  a  freeman  was  no  longer  possible,  he  determined 
at  least  to  write  in  that  character.  It  is  probable, 
also,  that  he  wrote  with  a  vindictive  or  malicious  feel- 
ing towards  Xero  ;  and,  as  the  single  means  he  had  for 
gratifying  that,  resolved  upon  sacrificing  the  grandeur 
of  Csesar's  character  wherever  it  should  be  found  pos- 
sible. Meantime,  in  spite  of  himself,  Lucan  for  ever 
betrays  his  lurking  consciousness  of  the  truth.  Nor 
-are  there  any  testimonies  to  Caesar's  vast  superiority 
more  memorably  pointed,  than  those  which  are  indi- 
rectly and  involuntarily  extorted  from  this  Catonic 
poet,  by  the  course  of  his  narration.  Never,  for  ex- 
ample, was  there  within  the  same  compass  of  words,  a 
more  emphatic  expression  of  Caesar's  essential  and 
inseparable  grandeur  of  thought,  which  could  not  be 
disguised  or  be  laid  aside  for  an  instant,  than  is  found 
in  the  three  casual  words  —  Indocilis  privata  loqui. 
The  very  mould,  it  seems,  by  Lucan's  confession,  of 
his  trivial  conversation  was  regal  ;  nor  could  he,  even 
to  serve  a  purpose,  abjure  it  for  so  much  as  a  casual 
purpose.  The  acts  of  Caesar  speak  also  the  same  lan- 
guage ;  and  as  these  arc  less  susceptible  of  a  false 
coloring  than  the  features  of  a  general  character,  we 
find  this  poet  of  liberty,  in  the  midst  of  one  continu- 


Tin:   CBSA.BS.  33 

ous  effort  to  distort  the  truth,  and  to  dress  up  two 
scenical  heroes,  forced  by  the  mere  necessities  of  his- 
tory into  a  reluctant  homage  to  Caesar's  supremacy  of 
moral  grandeur. 

Of  so  great  a  man  it  must  be  interesting  to  know 
all  the  well  attested  opinions  which  bear  upon  topics 
of  universal  interest  to  human  nature :  as  indeed  no 
others  stood  much  chance  of  preservation,  unless  it 
were  from  as  minute  and  curious  a  collector  of  anec- 
dotage  as  Suetonius.  And,  first,  it  would  be  gratifying 
to  know  the  opinion  of  Caesar,  if  he  had  any  peculiar 
to  himself,  on  the  great  theme  of  Religion.  It  has 
been  held,  indeed,  that  the  constitution  of  his  mind, 
and  the  general  cast  of  his  character,  indisposed  him 
to  religious  thoughts.  Nay,  it  has  been  common  to 
class  him  amongst  deliberate  atheists ;  and  some  well 
known  anecdotes  arc  current  in  books,  which  illustrate 
his  contempt  for  the  vulgar  class  of  auguries.  In  this, 
however,  he  went  no  farther  than  Cicero,  and  other 
great  contemporaries,  who  assuredly  were  no  atheists. 
One  mark  perhaps  of  the  wide  interval  which,  in 
Caesar's  age,  had  begun  to  separate  the  Roman  nobility 
from  the  hungry  and  venal  populace  who  were  daily 
put  up  to  sale,  and  bought  by  the  highest  bidder, 
manifested  itself  in  the  increasing  disdain  for  the 
tastes  and  ruling  sympathies  of  the  lowest  vulgar. 
No  mob  could  be  more  abjectly  servile  than  was  that 
of  Rome  to  the  superstition  of  portents,  prodigies,  and 


34  THE    C£SAKS. 

omens.     Thus  far,  in  common  with  his  order,  and  in 
this  sense,  Julius  Caesar   was   naturally  a  despiser   of 
superstition.      Mere  strength  of  understanding  would, 
perhaps,  have  made  him  so  in  any  age,  and  apart  from 
the  circumstances  of  his  personal  history.     This  nat- 
ural   tendency    in    him    would    doubtless    receive    a 
further  bias  in   the  same  direction  from  the  office  of 
Pontifex  Maximus,  which  he  held  at  an  early  stage  of 
his  public  career.     This  office,  by  letting  him  too  much 
behind  the  curtain,  and  exposing  too  entirely  the  base 
machinery  of  ropes  and  pulleys,  which  sustained  the 
miserable    jugglery    played     off    upon     the     popular 
credulity,    impressed    him    perhaps  even  unduly   with 
contempt  for  those  who  could  be  its  dupes.     And  we 
may  add,  that   Caesar  was  constitutionally,  as   well   as 
by  accident  of  position,  too  much  a  man  of  the  world, 
had  too  powerful  a  leaning  to  the  virtues  of  active  life, 
was    governed    by  too    partial    a    sympathy  with    the 
whole  class  of  active  forces  in  human  nature,  as  con- 
tradistinguished  from    those  which  tend    to    contem- 
plative   purposes,    under    any    circumstances,   to  have 
become  a  profound  believer,  or  a  steadfast  reposer  of 
his  fears  and  anxieties,  in  religious  influences.     A  man 
of  the   world  is   but   another  designation    for   a  man 
indisposed  to  religious  awe  or    contemplative   enthu- 
siasm.     Still  it  is  a  doctrine  which  we  cherish  —  that 
grandeur  of  mind  in  any  one  department  whatsoever, 
supposing  only  that  it  exists  in  excess,  disposes  a  man 


•I  li  !.    «    ES  \  EtS.  35 

to  some  degree  of  sympathy  with  all  other  grandeur, 

however  alien  in  its  quality  or  different  in  its  form. 
Aiul  upon  this  ground  we  presume  the  great  Dictator 
to  have  had  an  interest  in  religious  themes  by  mere 
compulsion  of  his  own  extraordinary  elevation  of 
mind,  after  making  the  fullest  allowance  for  the  spe- 
cial quality  of  that  mind,  which  did  certainly,  to  the 
whole  extent  of  its  characteristics,  tend  entirely  to 
estrange  him  from  such  themes.  "We  find,  accord- 
ingly, that  though  siuccrely  a  d  ispiser  of  superstition, 
and  with  a  frankness  which  must  sometimes  have  b 
hazardous  in  that  age,  Caesar  was  himself  also  super- 
stitious. Xo  man  could  have  been  otherwise  who  lived 
and  conversed  with  that  generation  of  people.  But  if 
superstitious,  he  was  so  after  a  mode  of  his  own.  In 
his  very  infirmities  Caesar  manifested  his  greatness: 
his  very  littlenesses  were  noble. 

'  Nee  licuit  populis  parvum  te,  Nile,  videre.' 
That  he  placed  some  confidence  in  dreams,  for  in- 
stance, is  certain  :  because,  had  he  slighted  them 
unreservedly,  he  would  not  have  dwelt  upon  them 
afterwards,  or  have  troubled  himself  to  recall  their 
circumstances.  Here  we  trace  bis  human  weakn 
Yet  again  we  are  reminded  that  it  was  the  weakness  of 
Caesar;  for  the  dreams  were  noble  in  their  imagery, 
and  Caesarean  (so  to  speak)  in  their  tone  of  moral 
feeling.  Thus,  for  example,  the  night  before  he  was 
assassinated,  he  dreamt  at  intervals  that  he  was   soar- 


36  THE    CLESARS. 

ing  above  tlic  clouds  on  wings,  and  that  lie  placed  his 
hand  within  the  right  hand  of  Jove.  It  would  seem 
that  perhaps  some  obscure  and  half-formed  image 
floated  in  his  mind,  of  the  eagle,  as  the  king  of  birds ; 
secondly,  as  the  tutelary  emblem  under  which  his 
conquering  legions  had  so  often  obeyed  his  voice  ;  and, 
thirdly,  as  the  bird  of  Jove.  To  this  triple  relation  of 
the  bird  his  dream  covertly  appears  to  point.  And  a 
singular  coincidence  appears  between  this  dream  and 
a  little  anecdote  brought  down  to  us,  as  having  ac- 
tually occurred  in  Rome  about  twenty-four  hours 
before  his  death.  A  little  bird,  which  by  some  is  rep- 
resented as  a  very  small  kind  of  sparrow,  but  which, 
both  to  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans,  was  known  by  a 
name  implying  a  regal  station  (probably  from  the  am- 
bitious courage  which  at  times  prompted  it  to  attack 
the  eagle),  was  observed  to  direct  its  flight  towards 
the  senate-house,  consecrated  by  rompey,  whilst  a 
crowd  of  other  birds  were  seen  to  hang  upon  its  flight 
in  close  pursuit.  What  might  be  the  object  of  the 
chase,  whether  the  little  king  himself,  or  a  sprig  of 
laurel  which  he  bore  in  his  mouth,  could  not  be  deter- 
mined. The  whole  train,  pursuers  and  pursued,  con- 
tinued their  flight  towards  Pompey's  hall.  Flight 
and  pursuit  were  there  alike  arrested ;  the  little  king 
was  overtaken  by  his  enemies,  who  fell  upon  him 
as  so  many  conspirators,  and  tore  him  limb  from 
limb. 


THE    C.ESAKS.  37 

If  this  anecdote  were  reported  to  Caesar,  which  is 
not  at  all  improbable,  considering  the  earnestness  with 
which  his  friends  labored  to  dissuade  him  from  his 
purpose  of  meeting  the  senate  on  the  approaching 
Ides  of  March,  it  is  very  little  to  be  doubted  that  it 
had  a  considerable  effect  upon  his  feelings,  and  that, 
in  fact,  his  own  dream  grew  out  of  the  impression 
which  it  had  made.  This  way  of  linking  the  two 
anecdotes  as  cause  and  effect,  would  also  bring  a 
third  anecdote  under  the  same  nexus.  We  arc  told 
that  Calpurnia,  the  last  wife  of  Caesar,  dreamed  on  the 
same  night,  and  to  the  same  ominous  result.  The 
circumstances  of  her  dream  arc  less  striking,  because 
less  figurative ;  but  on  that  account  its  import  was  less 
open  to  doubt :  she  dreamed,  in  fact,  that  after  the 
roof  of  their  mansion  had  fallen  in,  her  husband  was 
stabbed  in  her  bosom.  Laying  all  these  omens  to- 
gether, Ccesar  woidd  have  been  more  or  less  than 
human  had  he  continued  utterly  undepressed  by  them. 
And  if  so  much  superstition  as  even  this  implies,  must 
be  taken  to  argue  some  little  weakness,  on  the  other 
hand  let  it  not  be  forgotten,  that  this  very  weakness 
does  but  the  more  illustrate  the  unusual  force  of  mind, 
and  the  heroic  will,  which  obstinately  laid  aside  these 
concurring  prefigurations  of  impending  destruction ; 
concurring,  we  say,  amongst  themselves  —  and  con- 
curring also  with  a  prophecy  of  older  date,  which 
was  totally  independent  of  them  all. 

1 


38  THE    C.ESARS. 

There  is  another  and  somewhat  sublime  story  of  the 
same  class,  which  belongs  to  the  most  interesting 
moment  of  Caesar's  life ;  and  those  who  are  disposed 
to  explain  all  such  tales  upon  physiological  principles, 
will  find  an  easy  solution  of  this,  in  particular,  in  the 
exhaustion  of  body,  and  the  intense  anxiety  which 
must  have  debilitated  even  Caesar  under  the  whole 
circumstances  of  the  case.  On  the  ever  memorable 
night,  when  he  had  resolved  to  take  the  first  step  (and 
in  such  a  case  the  first  step,  as  regarded  the  power  of 
retreating,  was  also  the  final  step)  which  placed  him 
in  arms  against  the  state,  it  happened  that  his  head- 
quarters were  at  some  distance  from  the  little  river 
Rubicon,  which  formed  the  boundary  of  his  province. 
With  his  usual  caution,  that  no  news  of  his  motions 
might  run  before  himself,  on  this  night  Caesar  gave  an 
entertainment  to  his  friends,  in  the  midst  of  which  he 
slipped  away  unobserved,  and  with  a  small  retinue 
proceeded  through  the  woods  to  the  point  of  the  river 
at  which  he  designed  to  cross.  The  night8  was  stormy, 
and  by  the  violence  of  the  wind  all  the  torches  of  his 
escort  were  blown  out,  so  that  the  whole  party  lost 
their  road,  having  probably  at  first  intentionally  devi- 
ated from  the  main  route,  and  wandered  about  through 
the  whole  night,  until  the  early  dawn  enabled  them  to 
recover  their  true  course.  The  light  was  still  gray  and 
uncertain,  as  Caesar  and  his  retinue  rode  down  upon 
the  banks  of  the  fatal  river  —  to  cross  which  with  arms 


i  in    c  .1  s  \.ks.  39 

in  his  hands,  since  the  further  bank  lay  within  the  ter- 
ritory of    the    Republic,    ipso  facto,   proclaimed    any 

Roman  a  rebel  and  a  traitor.  No  man,  the  firmest  or 
the  most  obtuse,  could  be  otherwise  than  deeply  agi- 
tated, when  looking  down  upon  this  little  brook  —  so 
insignificant  in  itself,  but  invested  by  law  with  a  sanc- 
tity so  awful,  and  so  dire  a  consecration.  The  whole 
course  of  future  history,  and  the  fate  of  every  nation, 
would  ii  icessarily  be  determined  by  the  irretrievable 
act  of  the  next  half  hour. 

In  tli  ise  moments,  and  with  this  spectacle  before 
him,  and  contemplating  these  immeasurable  conse- 
quences consciously  for  the  last  time  that  could  allow 
him  a  retreat,  —  impressed  also  by  the  solemnity  and 
deep  tranquillity  of  the  silent  dawn,  whilst  the  exhaus- 
tion of  his  night  wanderings  predisposed  him  to 
nervous  irritation,  —  Caesar,  we  may  be  sure,  was 
profoundly  agitated.  The  wdrole  elements  of  the 
scene  were  almost  sccnically  disposed ;  the  law  of 
antagonism  having  perhaps  never  been  employed  with 
so  much  effect :  the  little  quiet  brook  presenting  a 
direct  antithesis  to  its  grand  political  character  ;  and 
the  innocent  dawn,  with  its  pure,  untroubled  repose, 
contrasting  potently,  to  a  man  of  any  intellectual  sen- 
sibility, with  the  long  chaos  of  bloodshed,  darkness 
and  anarchy,  which  was  to  take  its  rise  from  the 
apparently  trifling  acts  of  this  one  morning.  So  pre- 
pared, we  need    not  much  wonder  at  what  followed 


-10  THE    C2ESAE.S. 

Caesar  was  yet  lingering  on  the  hither  hank,  when 
suddenly,  at  a  point  not  far  distant  from  himself,  an 
apparition  was  descried  in  a  sitting  posture,  and  hold- 
ing in  its  hand  what  seemed  a  flute.  This  phantom 
was  of  unusual  size,  and  of  beauty  more  than  human, 
so  far  as  its  lineaments  could  he  traced  in  the  early 
dawn.  What  is  singular,  however,  in  the  story,  on 
any  hypothesis  which  would  explain  it  out  of  Caesar's 
individual  condition,  is,  that  others  saw  it  as  well  as  he  ; 
both  pastoral  laborers,  (who  were  present,  probably  in 
the  character  of  guides,)  and  some  of  the  sentinels 
stationed  at  the  passage  of  the  river.  These  men 
fancied  even  that  a  strain  of  music  issued  from  this 
aerial  flute.  And  some,  both  of  the  shepherds  and 
the  Roman  soldiers,  who  were  bolder  than  the  rest, 
advanced  towards  the  figure.  Amongst  this  party,  it 
happened  that  there  were  a  feAV  Roman  trumpeters. 
From  one  of  these,  the  phantom,  rising  as  they  ad- 
vanced nearer,  suddenly  caught  a  trumpet,  and  blow- 
ing through  it  a  blast  of  superhuman  strength,  plunged 
into  the  Rubicon,  passed  to  the  other  bank,  and  disap- 
peared in  the  dusky  twilight  of  the  dawn.  Upon 
which  Caesar  exclaimed  :  —  It  is  finished  —  the  die  is 
cast  —  let  us  follow  whither  the  guiding  portents  from 
Heaven,  and  the  malice  of  our  enemy,  alike  summon 
us  to  go.'  So  saying,  he  crossed  the  river  with  im- 
petuosity ;  and,  in  a  sudden  rapture  of  passionate  and 
vindictive   ambition,  placed   himself    and   his    retinue 


THE    CJE8AB8.  41 

upon  tlic  Italian  soil  ;  and,  as  if  by  inspiration  from 
Heaven,  in  one  moment  involved  himself  and  his  fol- 
lowers in  treason,  raised  the  standard  of  revolt,  put 
his  foot  upon  the  neck  of  the  invincible  republic  which 
had  humbled  all  the  kings  of  the  earth,  and  founded 
an  empire  which  was  to  last  for  a  thousand  and  half 
a  thousand  years.  In  what  manner  this  spectral  ap- 
pearance was  managed  —  whether  Caesar  were  its 
author,  or  its  dupe  —  will  remain  unknown  for  ever. 
But  undoubtedly  this  was  the  first  time  that  the 
advanced  guard  of  a  victorious  army  was  headed  by 
an  apparition;  and  we  may  conjecture  that  it  will 
be  the  last.9 

In  the  mingled  yarn  of  human  life,  tragedy  is  never 
far  asunder  from  farce  ;  and  it  is  amusing  to  retrace  in 
immediate  succession  to  this  incident  of  epic  dignity, 
which  has  its  only  parallel  by  the  wray  in  the  case  of 
Vasco  de  Gama,  (according  to  the  narrative  of  Ca- 
moens,)  when  met  and  confronted  by  a  sea  phantom 
whilst  attempting  to  double  the  Cape  of  Storms, 
(Cape  of  Good  Hope,)  a  ludicrous  passage,  in  which 
one  felicitous  blunder  did  Caesar  a  better  service  than 
all  the  truths  which  Greece  and  Rome  could  have 
furnished.  In  our  own  experience,  we  once  witnessed 
a  blunder  about  as  gross.  The  present  Chancellor,  in 
his  first  electioneering  contest  with  the  Lowthers,  upon 
some  occasion  where  he  was  recriminating  upon  the 
other  party,  and  complaining  that  stratagems^  which 
4 


42  THE    CJESARS. 

they  might  practise  with  impunity,  were  denied  to  him 
and  his,  happened  to  point  the  moral  of  his  complaint, 
by  alleging  the  old   adage,  that  one  man  might  steal 
a  horse  with  more  hope    of  indulgence    than   another 
could  look  over   the  hedge.     Whereupon,  by  benefit 
of    the   universal  mis-hearing  in   the   outermost  ring 
of  the    audience,   it   became    generally  reported   that 
Lord  Lowther  had  once  been  engaged  in  an  affair  of 
horse  stealing ;    and    that  he,  Henry  Brougham,  could 
(had  he  pleased)  have  lodged   an   information   against 
him,  seeing  that  he  was  then  looking  over  the  hedge. 
And  this  charge  naturally  Avon   the   more   credit,  be- 
cause   it    was    notorious    and    past    denying    that    his 
lordship  was  a  capital  horseman,  fond  of  horses,  and 
much  connected  with  the   turf.     To  this  hour,  there- 
fore, amongst  some  worthy  shepherds  and  others,  it  is 
a  received  article  of  their  creed,  and  (as  they  justly 
observe   in  northern   pronunciation)  a  shamful    thing 
to    be    told,   that    Lord    Lowther    was    once    a   horse 
stealer,  and   that  he   escaped   lagging   by  reason    of 
Harry  Brougham's  pity  for  his  tender  years  and  hope- 
ful looks.     Not  less  was   the  blunder,  which,  on  the 
banks    of   the    Rubicon,    befriended    Caesar.       Imme- 
diately after  crossing,  he  harangued  the  troops  whom 
he  had  sent  forward,  and  others  who   there   met  him 
from   the   neighboring  garrison  of  Ariminium.      The 
tribunes    of   the    people,   those    great    officers   of  the 
democracy,  corresponding  by  some  of   their  functions 


THE    CJESAKS.  43 

to  our  House  of  Commons,  men  personally,  and  by 
their  position  in  the  state,  entirely  in  his  interest, 
and  who,  for  his  sake,  had  fled  from  home,  there 
and  then  he  produced  to  the  soldiery  ;  thus  identified 
his  cause,  and  that  of  the  soldiers,  with  the  cause  of 
the  people  of  Rome  and  of  Roman  liberty  :  and  per- 
haps with  needless  rhetoric  attempted  to  conciliate 
those  who  were  by  a  thousand  tics  and  by  claims 
innumerable,  his  own  already  ;  for  never  yet  has  it 
been  found,  that  with  the  soldier,  who,  from  youth 
upwards,  passes  his  life  in  camps,  could  the  duties  or 
the  interests  of  citizens  survive  those  stronger  and 
more  personal  relations  connecting  him  with  his 
military  superior.  In  the  course  of  this  harangue, 
Caesar  often  raised  his  left  hand  with  Demosthenic 
action,  and  once  or  twice  he  drew  off  the  ring,  which 
every  Roman  gentleman  —  simply  as  such  —  wore  as 
the  inseparable  adjunct  and  symbol  of  his  rank.  By 
this  action  he  wished  to  give  emphasis  to  the  accom- 
panying words,  in  which  he  protested,  that,  sooner 
than  fail  in  satisfying  and  doing  justice  to  any  the 
least  of  those  who  heard  him  and  followed  his  for- 
tunes, he  would  be  content  to  part  with  his  own 
birthright,  and  to  forego  his  dearest  claims.  This 
was  what  he  really  said  ;  but  the  outermost  circles 
of  his  auditors,  who  rather  saw  his  gestures  than 
distinctly  heard  his  words,  carried  off  the  notion, 
(which    they    were     careful     everywhere     to     disperse 


44  THE    C^SARS. 

amongst  the  legions  afterwards  associated  with  them 
in  the  same  camps,)  that  Caesar  had  vowed  never  to 
lay  down  his  arms  until  he  had  obtained  for  every 
man,  the  very  meanest  of  those  who  heard  him,  the 
rank,  privileges  and  appointments  of  a  Roman  knight. 
Here  was  a  piece  of  sovereign  good  luck.  Had  he 
really  made  such  a  promise,  Caesar  might  have  found 
that  he  had  laid  himself  under  very  embarrassing 
obligations ;  but,  as  the  case  stood,  he  had,  through 
all  his  following  campaigns,  the  total  benefit  of  such  a 
promise,  and  yet  could  always  absolve  himself  from 
the  penalties  of  responsibility  which  it  imposed,  by 
appealing  to  the  evidence  of  those  who  happened  to 
stand  in  the  first  ranks  of  his  audience.  The  blunder 
was  gross  and  palpable ;  and  yet,  with  the  unreflecting 
and  dull-witted  soldier,  it  did  him  service  greater  than 
all  the  subtilties  of  all  the  schools  could  have  accom- 
plished, and  a  service  which  subsisted  to  the  end  of 
the  war. 

Great  as  Csesar  was  by  the  benefit  of  his  original 
nature,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he,  like  others, 
owed  something  to  circumstances  ;  and,  perhaps, 
amongst  those  which  were  most  favorable  to  the  pre- 
mature development  of  great  self-dependence,  Ave 
must  reckon  the  early  death  of  his  father.  It  is,  or 
it  is  not,  according  to  the  nature  of  men,  an  advan- 
tage to  be  orphaned  at  an  early  age.  Perhaps  utter 
orphanage  is  rarely  or  never  such  :  but  to  lose  a  father 


THE    CjESAES.  45 

betimes  profits  a  strong  mind  greatly.  To  Caesar  it 
was  a  prodigious  benefit  tbat  be  lost  bis  father  when 
not  much  more  than  fifteen.  Perhaps  it  was  an  ad- 
vantage also  to  bis  father  that  be  died  thus  early. 
Had  be  stayed  a  year  longer,  be  would  have  seen 
nimsclf  despised,  battled,  and  made  ridiculous.  For 
where,  let  us  ask,  in  any  age,  was  the  father  capable 
of  adequately  sustaining  tbat  relation  to  the  unique 
Caius  Julius  —  to  him,  in   the   appropriate   language 

of  Shakspeare, 

'  The  foremost  man  of  all  this  world  ? ' 

And,  in  this  fine  and  Ceesarean  line,  '  this  world'  is 
to  be  understood  not  of  the  order  of  co-existences 
merely,  but  also  of  the  order  of  successions  ;  he  was 
the  foremost  man  not  only  of  his  contemporaries,  but 
also  of  men  generally  —  of  all  that  ever  should  come 
after  him,  or  should  sit  on  thrones  under  the  denomi- 
nations of  Czars,  Kesars,  or  Caesars  of  the  Bosphorus 
and  the  Danube ;  of  all  in  every  age  tbat  should 
inherit  his  supremacy  of  mind,  or  should  subject  to 
themselves  the  generations  of  ordinary  men  by  quali- 
ties analogous  to  his.  Of  this  infinite  superiority 
some  part  must  be  ascribed  to  his  early  emancipation 
from  paternal  control.  There  are  very  many  cases  in 
which,  simply  from  considerations  of  sex,  a  female 
cannot  stand  forward  as  the  head  of  a  family,  or  as  its 
suitable  representative.  If  their  arc  even  ladies  para- 
mount, and    in    situations    of  command,  they   are    also 


46  THE    CJESAES. 

women.  The  staff  of  authority  does  not  annihilate 
their  sex ;  and  scruples  of  female  delicacy  interfere 
for  ever  to  unnerve  and  emasculate  in  their  hands  the 
sceptre  however  otherwise  potent.  Hence  we  see,  in 
nohlc  families,  the  merest  boys  put  forward  to  repre- 
sent the  family  dignity,  as  fitter  supporters  of  that 
burden  than  their  mature  mothers.  And  of  Caesar'a 
mother,  though  little  is  recorded,  and  that  little  inci- 
dentally, this  much,  at  least,  we  learn  —  that,  if  she 
looked  down  upon  him  with  maternal  pride  and  de- 
light, she  looked  up  to  him  with  female  ambition  as 
the  re-edifier  of  her  husband's  honors,  with  reverence 
as  to  a  column  of  the  Roman  grandeur,  and  with  fear 
and  feminine  anxieties  as  to  one  whose  aspiring  spirit 
carried  him  but  too  prematurely  into  the  fields  of 
adventurous  honor.  One  slight  and  evanescent  sketch 
of  the  relations  which  subsisted  between  Caesar  and 
his  mother,  caught  from  the  wrecks  of  time,  is  pre- 
served both  by  Plutarch  and  Suetonius.  Wc  see  in 
the  early  dawn  the  young  patrician  standing  upon  the 
steps  of  his  paternal  portico,  his  mother  with  her  arms 
wreathed  about  his  neck,  looking  up  to  his  noble 
countenance,  sometimes  drawing  auguries  of  hope 
from  features  so  fitted  for  command,  sometimes  boding 
an  early  blight  to  promises  so  prematurely  magnifi- 
cent. That  she  had  something  of  her  son's  aspiring 
character,  or  that  he  presumed  so  much  in  a  mother 
of  his,  we  learn  from  the  few  words  which  survive  of 


THE    C.ESARS.  47 

their  conversation.  He  addressed  to  Ucr  no  language 
that  could  tranquillize  her  fears.  On  the  contrary,  to 
any  but  a  Roman  mother  his  valedictory  words,  taken 
in  connection  with  the  known  determination  of  his 
character,  were  of  a  nature  to  consummate  her  de- 
pression, as  they  tended  to  confirm  the  very  worst  of 
her  fears.  He  was  then  going  to  stand  his  chance  in 
a  popular  election  for  an  office  of  dignity,  and  to 
launch  himself  upon  the  storms  of  the  Campus  Mar- 
tius.  At  that  period,  besides  other  and  more  ordinary 
dangers,  the  bands  of  gladiators,  kept  in  the  pay  of 
the  more  ambitious  amongst  the  Roman  nobles,  gave 
a  popular  tone  of  ferocity  and  of  personal  risk  to  the 
course  of  such  contests  ;  and  either  to  forestall  the 
victory  of  an  antagonist,  or  to  avenge  their  own  defeat, 
it  was  not  at  all  impossible  that  a  body  of  incensed 
competitors  might  intercept  his  final  triumph  by  assas- 
sination. For  this  danger,  however,  he  had  no  leisure 
in  his  thoughts  of  consolation  ;  the  sole  danger  which 
he  contemplated,  or  supposed  his  mother  to  contem- 
plate, was  the  danger  of  defeat,  and  for  that  he  re- 
served his  consolations.  He  bade  her  fear  nothing  ; 
for  that  without  doubt  he  would  return  with  victory, 
and  with  the  ensigns  of  the  dignity  he  sought,  or 
would  return  a  corpse. 

Early,  indeed,  did  Caesar's  trials  commence  :  and  it 
is  probable,  that,  had  not  the  death  of  his  i'athei, 
by  throwing  him  prematurely  upon  his  own  resources, 


48  THE     CJESARS. 

prematurely  developed  the  masculine  features  of  his 
character,  forcing  him  whilst  yet  a  hoy  under  the 
discipline  of  civil  conflict  and  the  yoke  of  practical  life, 
even  Ms  energies  would  have  heen  insufficient  to 
sustain  them.  His  age  is  not  exactly  ascertained, 
hut  it  is  past  a  douht  that  he  had  not  reached  his 
twentieth  year  when  he  had  the  hardihood  to  engage 
in  a  struggle  with  Sylla,  then  Dictator,  and  exercising 
the  immoderate  powers  of  that  office  with  the  license 
and  the  severity  which  history  has  made  so  memorable. 
He  had  neither  any  distinct  grounds  of  hope,  nor  any 
eminent  example  at  that  time,  to  countenance  him 
in  this  struggle  —  which  yet  he  pushed  on  in  the  most 
uncompromising  style,  and  to  the  utmost  verge  of 
defiance.  The  subject  of  the  contrast  gives  it  a  fur- 
ther interest.  It  was  the  youthful  wife  of  the  youthful 
Csesar  who  stood  under  the  shadow  of  the  great 
Dictator's  displeasure  ;  not  personally,  but  politically, 
on  account  of  her  connections ;  and  her  it  was,  Cor- 
nelia, the  daughter  of  a  man  who  had  been  four  times 
consul,  that  Csesar  was  required  to  divorce  ;  but  he 
spurned  the  haughty  mandate,  and  carried  his  deter- 
mination to  a  triumphant  issue,  notwithstanding  his 
life  was  at  stake,  and  at  one  time  saved  only  by 
shifting  his  place  of  concealment  every  night  ;  and 
this  young  lady  it  was  who  afterwards  became  the 
mother  of  his  only  daughter.  Both  mother  and 
daughter,  it  is  remarkable,  perished  prematurely,  and 


TI1K    I    ESAB8.  I'J 

at  critical  periods  of  Caesar's  life;  fur  it  is  probable 
enough  that  these  irreparable  wounds  to  Caesar's  do- 
mestic  affections  threw  him  with  more  exclusivenesa 

of  devotion  upon  the  fascinations  of  glory  and  ambition 
than  might  have  happened   under  a  happier  condition 
of  his  private  life.     That  Caesar  should  have  escaped 
destruction  in  this  unequal  contest  with  an  enemy  then 
wielding  the  whole  thunders  of  the  state,  is  somewhat 
surprising  ;   and  historians  have  sought  their  solution 
of  the   mystery    in  the  powerful   intercessions  of  the 
vestal  virgins,  and  several  others  of  high  rank  amongst 
the  connections  of  his  great  house.     These  may  have 
done    something ;    but   it    is    due    to    Sylla,    who   had 
a  sympathy   with  everything  truly  noble,  to  suppose 
him  struck  with  powerful  admiration  for  the  audacity 
of  the   young   patrician,  standing  out  in  such   severe 
solitude  among  so  many  examples  of  timid  concession; 
and  that  to  this  magnanimous  feeling  in  the  Dictator, 
much  of  his  indulgence   was   due.      In  fact,  according 
to  some  accounts,  it  was  not  Sylla,  but  the  creatures  of 
Sylla    [adjutores),   who    pursued   Caesar.     We  know, 
at  all   events,  that   Sylla   formed  a  right  estimate   of 
CaDsar's  character,  and   that,   from   the  complexion  of 
his  conduct  in  this   one   instance,  he   drew  his  famous 
prophecy  of  his  future  destiny  ;    bidding    his    friends 
beware  of   that  slipshod    hoy,    •  for    that    in    him    lay 
couchant    many  a  Marius.'      A    grander  testimony  to 
the  awe  which  Caesar  inspired,  or  from  one  who  knew 
5 


50  THE    CXSAKS. 

better  the  qualities  of  that  man  by  whom  he  measured 
him,  cannot  be  imagined. 

It  is  not  our  intention,  or  consistent  with  our  plan, 
to  pursue  this  great  man  through  the  whole  circum- 
stances of  his  romantic  career ;  though  it  is  certain 
that  many  parts  of  his  life  require  investigation  much 
keener  than  has  ever  been  applied  to  them,  and  that 
many  might  easily  be  placed  in  a  new  light.  Indeed, 
the  whole  of  this  most  momentous  section  of  ancient 
history  ought  to  be  recomposed  with  the  critical  scep- 
ticism of  a  Niebuhr,  and  the  same  comprehensive 
collation  of  authorities.  In  reality  it  is  the  hinge  upon 
which  turned  the  future  destiny  of  the  whole  earth ; 
and  having  thei*efore  a  common  relation  to  all  modern 
nations  whatsoever,  should  naturally  have  been  culti- 
vated with  the  zeal  which  belongs  to  a  personal  con- 
cern. In  general,  the  anecdotes  which  express  most 
vividly  the  splendid  character  of  the  first  Caesar,  are 
those  which  illustrate  his  defiance  of  danger  in  ex- 
tremity ;  the  prodigious  energy  and  rapidity  of  his 
decisions  and  motions  in  the  field  ;  the  skill  with 
which  he  penetrated  the  designs  of  his  enemies,  and 
the  exemplary  speed  with  which  he  provided  a  remedy 
for  disasters  ;  the  extraordinary  presence  of  mind 
which  he  showed  in  turning  adverse  omens  to  his  own 
advantage,  as  when,  upon  stumbling  in  coming  on 
shore,  (which  was  esteemed  a  capital  omen  of  evil,) 
he  transfigured  as   it  were   in   one  instant  its    whole 


i  li  i.    (  fiSAE8.  51 

meaning    by  exclaiming,     '  Thus    do    I    take    posses- 
sion of  thee,  oh  Africa  !  '    in    that    way  giving  to  an 
accident    the    semblance  of  a    symbolic  purpose  ;    the 
grandeur  of  fortitude  with  which  he   faced  the   whole 
extent  of  a  calamity  when  palliation  could  do  no  good, 
'  non  negando,  minuendove,  sed  insupcr  amplificando, 
ementiendoque  ;  '  as  when,  upon    finding  his  soldiery 
alarmed  at  the   approach   of  Juba,   with   forces   really 
great,  but  exaggerated  by   their  terrors,  he  addressed 
them  in  a  military  harangue  to  the  following  effect : 
'  Know  that  within  a  few  days    the   king  will  come  up 
with  us,  bringing  with  him  sixty  thousand  legionaries, 
thirty   thousand  cavalry,  one  hundred  thousand  light 
troops,  besides  three  hundred   elephants.      Such  being 
the  case,  let  me    hear    no    more    of   conjectures    and 
opinions,  for  you  have  now  my  warrant  for  the  fact, 
whose    information    is    past    doubting.     Therefore,  be 
satisfied  ;   otherwise,  I  will  put  every  man  of  you  on 
board  some  crazy  old  fleet,  and  whistle  you  down  the 
tide  —  no  matter  under  what  winds,  no  matter  towards 
what   shore.'      Finally,   we    might  seek  for  the  char- 
acter ist ir  anecdotes  of  Caesar  in  his  unexampled  liber- 
alities and  contempt  of  money.10 

Upon  this  last  topic  it  is  the  just  remark  of 
Casaubon,  that  some  instances  of  Caesar's  munificence 
have  been  thought  apocryphal,  or  to  rest  upon  false 
readings,  simply  from  ignorance  of  the  heroic  scale 
upon   which    the  Roman    splendors   of    that  age  pro- 


52  THE    C.ESARS. 

ceecled.  A  forum  which  C;csar  built  out  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  his  last  campaign,  by  way  of  a  present  to  the 
Roman  people,  cost  him  —  for  the  ground  merely  on 
which  it  stood  —  nearly  eight  hundred  thousand 
pounds.  To  the  citizens  of  Rome  (perhaps  300,000 
persons)  he  presented,  in  one  congiary,  about  two 
guineas  and  a  half  a  head.  To  his  army,  in  one 
donation,  upon  the  termination  of  the  civil  war,  he 
gave  a  sum  which  allowed  about  two  hundred  pounds 
a  man  to  the  infantry,  and  four  hundred  to  the  cavalry. 
It  is  true  that  the  legionary  troops  were  then  much 
reduced  by  the  sword  of  the  enemy,  and  by  the 
tremendous  hardships  of  their  last  campaigns.  In  this, 
however,  he  did  perhaps  no  more  than  repay  a  debt. 
For  it  is  an  instance  of  military  attachment,  beyond  all 
that  Wallenstein  or  any  commander,  the  most  beloved 
amongst  his  troops,  has  ever  experienced,  that,  on  the 
breaking  out  of  the  civil  war,  not  only  did  the  cen- 
turions of  every  legion  severally  maintain  a  horse 
soldier,  but  even  the  privates  volunteered  to  serve 
without  pay  —  and  (what  might  seem  impossible)  with- 
out their  daily  rations.  This  was  accomplished  by 
subscriptions  amongst  themselves,  the  more  opulent 
undertaking  for  the  maintenance  of  the  needy.  Their 
disinterested  love  for  Caesar  appeared  in  another  and 
more  difficult  illustration  ;  it  was  a  traditionary  anec- 
dote in  Rome,  that  the  majority  of  those  amongst 
Caesar's  troops,  who  had  the  misfortune  to  fall  into  the 


Tin:  cxsAus.  53 

enemy's  hands,  refused  to  accept  their  lives  under  the 
condition  of  serving  against  //////. 

In  connection  with  this  suhject  of  his  extraordinary 
-munificence,  there  is  one  aspect  of  Caesar's  life  which 
has  suffered  much  from  the  misrepresentations  of  his- 
torians, and  that  is  —  the  vast  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ments under  which  he  labored,  until  the  profits  of  war 
had  turned  the  scale  even  more  prodigiously  in  his 
favor.  At  one  time  of  his  life,  when  appointed  to  a 
foreign  office,  so  numerous  and  so  clamorous  were  his 
creditors,  that  he  could  not  have  left  Rome  on  his 
public  duties,  had  not  Crassus  come  forward  with 
assistance  in  money,  or  by  promises,  to  the  amount  of 
nearly  two  hundred  thousand  pounds.  And  at  another, 
he  was  accustomed  to  amuse  himself  with  computing 
how  much  money  it  would  require  to  make  him  worth 
exactly  nothing  (i.  e.  simply  to  clear  him  of  debts)  ; 
this,  by  one  account,  amounted  to  upwards  of  twe 
millions  sterling.  Now  the  error  of  historians  has 
been  —  to  represent  these  debts  as  the  original  ground 
of  his  ambition  and  his  revolutionary  projects,  as  though 
the  desperate  condition  of  his  private  affairs  had  sug- 
gested a  civil  war  to  his  calculations  as  the  best  01 
only  mode  of  redressing  it.  But,  on  the  contrary,  his 
debts  were  the  product  of  his  ambition,  and  contracted 
from  first  to  last  in  the  service  of  his  political  intrigues, 
for  raising  and  maintaining  a  powerful  body  of  par- 
tisans, both  in   Rome   and   elsewhere.      Whosoever, 


54  THE    CiESATtS. 

indeed,  will  take  the  trouble  to  investigate  the  progress 
of  Csesar's  ambition,  from  such  materials  as  even  yet 
remain,  may  satisfy  himself  that  the  scheme  of  rev- 
olutionizing the  Republic,  and  placing  himself  at  its 
head,  was  no  growth  of  accident  or  circumstances  ; 
above  all,  that  it  did  not  arise  upon  any  so  petty  and 
indirect  an  occasion  as  that  of  his  debts  ;  but  that 
his  debts  were  in  their  very  first  origin  purely  min- 
isterial to  his  ambition  ;  and  that  his  revolutionary 
plans  were  at  all  periods  of  his  life  a  direct  and  fore- 
most object.  In  this  there  was  in  reality  no  want  of 
patriotism  ;  it  had  become  evident  to  every-body  that 
Rome,  under  its  present  constitution,  must  fall  :  and 
the  sole  question  was  —  by  whom  ?  Even  Pompey, 
not  by  nature  of  an  aspiring  turn,  and  prompted  to  his 
ambitious  course  undoubtedly  by  circumstances  and 
the  friends  who  besieged  him,  was  in  the  habit  of  say- 
ing, '  Sylla  potuit,  ego  non  potcro  ?  '  And  the  fact 
was,  that  if,  from  the  death  of  Sylla,  Rome  recovered 
some  transient  show  of  constitutional  integrity,  that 
happened  not  by  any  lingering  virtue  that  remained  in 
her  republican  forms,  but  entirely  through  the  equi- 
librium and  mechanical  counterpoise  of  rival  factions. 
In  a  case,  therefore,  where  no  benefit  of  choice  was 
allowed  to  Rome  as  to  the  thing,  but  only  as  to  the 
person  —  where  a  revolution  was  certain,  and  the  point 
left  open  to  doubt  simply  by  whom  that  revolution 
should  be  accomplished  —  Csesar  had  (to  say  the  least) 


THE    CMSXVLS.  55 

the  same  right  to  enter  the  arena  in  the  character  of 
candidate  as  could  belong  to  any  one  of  his  rivals. 
And  that  he  did  enter  that  arena  constructively,  and 
hy  secret  design,  from  his  very  earliest  manhood,  may 
he  gathered  from  this  —  that  he  suffered  no  openings 
towards  a  revolution,  provided  they  had  any  hope 
in  them,  to  escape  his  participation.  It  is  familiarly 
known  that  he  was  engaged  pretty  deeply  in  the  con- 
spiracy of  Catiline,11  and  that  he  incurred  considerable 
risk  on  that  occasion  ;  but  it  is  less  known,  and  has 
indeed  escaped  the  notice  of  historians  generally,  that 
he  was  a  party  to  at  least  two  other  conspiracies. 
There  was  even  a  fourth  meditated  by  Crassus,  which 
Caesar  so  far  encouraged  as  to  undertake  a  journey  to 
Rome  from  a  very  distant  quarter,  merely  with  a  view 
to  such  chances  as  it  might  offer  to  him  ;  but  as  it  did 
not,  upon  examination,  seem  to  him  a  very  promising 
scheme,  he  judged  it  best  to  look  coldly  upon  it,  or  not 
to  embark  in  it  by  any  personal  co-operation.  Upon 
these  and  other  facts  we  build  our  inference  —  that  the 
scheme  of  a  revolution  was  the  one  great  purpose  of 
Caesar,  from  his  first  entrance  upon  public  life.  Nor 
docs  it  appear  that  he  cared  much  by  whom  it  was 
undertaken,  provided  only  there  seemed  to  be  any 
sufficient  resources  for  carrying  it  through,  and  for 
sustaining  the  first  collision  with  the  regular  forces  of 
the  existing  government.  He  relied,  it  seems,  on  his 
own  personal  superiority  for  raising  him  to  the  head  of 


56  THE    CAESARS. 

affairs  eventually,  let  who  would  take  the  nominal  lead 
at  first.  To  the  same  result,  it  will  be  found,  tended 
the  vast  stream  of  Caesar's  liberalities.  From  the 
senator  downwards  to  the  lowest  fax  Romuli,  he  had 
a  hired  body  of  dependents,  both  in  and  out  of  Rome, 
equal  in  numbers  to  a  nation.  In  the  provinces,  and 
in  distant  kingdoms,  he  pursued  the  same  schemes. 
Everywhere  he  had  a  body  of  mercenary  partisans  ; 
kings  are  known  to  have  taken  his  pay.  And  it  is 
remarkable  that  even  in  his  character  of  commander-in- 
chief,  where  the  number  of  legions  allowed  to  him  for 
the  accomplishment  of  his  mission  raised  him  for  a 
number  of  years  above  all  fear  of  coercion  or  control, 
he  persevered  steadily  in  the  same  plan  of  providing 
for  the  day  when  he  might  need  assistance,  not  from 
the  state,  but  against  the  state.  For  amongst  the 
private  anecdotes  which  came  to  light  under  the  re- 
searches made  into  his  history  after  his  death,  was 
this  —  that,  soon  after  his  first  entrance  upon  his  gov- 
ernment in  Gaul,  he  had  raised,  equipped,  disciplined, 
and  maintained  from  his  own  private  funds,  a  legion 
amounting,  perhaps,  to  six  or  seven  thousand  men, 
who  were  bound  by  no  sacrament  of  military  obedience 
to  the  state,  nor  owed  fealty  to  any  auspices  except 
those  of  Caesar.  This  legion,  from  the  fashion  of  their 
crested  helmets,  which  resembled  the  crested  heads  of 
a  small  bird  of  the  lark  species,  received  the  popular 
name  of  the  Alauda  (or  Lark)  legion.     And  very  sin- 


Till.    I  .F.SARS.  57 

gular  it  was  (lml  Cat  >,  or  Marcellus,  or  some  amongst 
those  enemies  of  Caesar,  who  watched  his  conduct 
during  the  period  of  his  Gaulish  command  with  the 
vigilance  of  rancorous  malice,  should  not  have  come  to 
the  knowledge  of  this  fact ;  in  which  case  we  may  be 
sure  that  it  would  have  been  denounced  to  the  senate. 
Such,  then,  for  its  purpose  and  its  uniform  motive, 
was  the  sagacious  munificence  of  Caesar.  Apart  from 
this  motive,  and  considered  in  and  for  itself,  and  sim- 
ply with  a  reference  to  the  splendid  forms  which  it 
q  assumed,  this  munificence  would  furnish  the 
materials  for  a  volume.  The  public  entertainments  of 
Caesar,  his  spectacles  and  shows,  his  naumachne,  and 
the  pomps  of  his  unrivalled  triumphs,  (the  closing  tri- 
umphs of  the  Republic,)  were  severally  the  finest  of 
their  kind  which  had  then  been  brought  forward. 
Sea-fights  were  exhibited  upon  the  grandest  scale,  ac- 
cording to  every  known  variety  of  nautical  equipment 
and  mode  of  conflict,  upon  a  vast  lake  formed  artifici- 
ally for  that  express  purpose.  Mimic  land-fights  were 
conducted,  in  which  all  the  circumstances  of  real  war 
were  so  faithfully  rehearsed,  that  even  elephants  '  in- 
dorsed with  towers,'  twenty  on  each  side,  took  part  in 
the  combat.  Dramas  were  represented  in  every  known 
language,  {per  omnium  linguarum  histriones.)  And 
hence  [that  is,  from  the  conciliatory  feeling  thus  ex- 
pressed towards  the  various  tribes  of  foreigners  i 
dent  in  Rome]  some  have  derived  an   explanation  of 


58  the  cjEsxna. 

what  is  else  a  mysterious  circumstance  amongst  the 
ceremonial  observances  at  Caesar's  funeral  —  that  all 
people  of  foreign  nations  then  residing  at  Rome,  dis- 
tinguished themselves  hy  the  conspicuous  share  which 
they  took  in  the  public  mourning;  and  that,  beyond 
all  other  foreigners,  the  Jews  for  night  after  night  kept 
watch  and  ward  about  the  emperor's  grave.  Never 
before,  according  to  traditions  which  lasted  through 
several  generations  in  Rome,  had  there  been  so  vast  a 
conflux  of  the  human  race  congregated  to  any  one 
centre,  on  any  one  attraction  of  business  or  of  pleasure, 
as  to  Rome  on  occasion  of  these  spectacles  exhibited 
by  Caesar. 

In  our  days,  the  greatest  occasional  gatherings  of 
the  human  race  are  in  India,  especially  at  the  great 
fair  of  the  Hurdwar,  in  the  northern  part  of  Hindos- 
tan  ;  a  confluence  of  many  millions  is  sometimes  seen 
at  that  spot,  brought  together  under  the  mixed  influ- 
ences of  devotion  and  commercial  business,  and  dis- 
persed as  rapidly  as  they  had  been  convoked.  Some 
such  spectacle  of  nations  crowding  upon  nations,  and 
some  such  Babylonian  confusion  of  dresses,  complex- 
ions, languages,  and  jargons,  was  then  witnessed  at 
Rome.  Accommodations  within  doors,  and  under 
roofs  of  houses,  or  of  temples,  was  altogether  impos- 
sible. Myriads  encamped  along  the  streets,  and  along 
the  high-roads  in  the  vicinity  of  Rome.  Myriads  of 
myriads  lay  stretched  on  the  ground,  without  even  the 


THE    CJESA.B9.  59 

slight  protection  of  tents,  in  a  vast  circuit  about  the 
city.  Multitudes  of  men,  even  senators,  and  others 
of  the  highest  rank,  were  trampled  to  death  in  the 
crowds.  And  the  whole  family  of  man  seemed  at  that 
time  gathered  together  at  the  bidding  of  the  great 
Dictator.  But  these,  or  any  other  themes  connected 
with  the  public  life  of  Caesar,  we  notice  only  in  those 
circumstances  which  have  been  overlooked,  or  partially 
represented  by  historians.  Let  us  now,  in  conclusion, 
bring  forward,  from  the  obscurity  in  which  they  have 
hitherto  lurked,  the  anecdotes  which  describe  the 
habits  of  his  private  life,  his  tastes,  and  personal 
peculiarities. 

In  person,  he  was  tall,  fair,  and  of  limbs  distin- 
guished for  their  elegant  proportions  and  gracility. 
His  eyes  were  black  and  piercing.  These  circum- 
stances continued  to  be  long  remembered,  and  no 
doubt  were  constantly  recalled  to  the  eyes  of  all  per- 
sons in  the  imperial  palaces,  by  pictures,  busts,  and 
statues ;  for  we  find  the  same  description  of  his  per- 
sonal appearance  three  centuries  afterwards,  in  a  work 
of  the  Emperor  Julian's.  He  was  a  most  accomplished 
horseman,  and  a  master  {  peril issimns)  in  the  use  of 
arms.  But  notwithstanding  his  skill  and  horseman- 
ship, it  seems  that,  when  he  accompanied  his  army  on 
marches,  he  walked  oftcner  than  he  rode  ;  no  doubt, 
with  a  view  to  the  benefit  of  his  example,  and  to 
express  that  sympathy  with  his  soldiers  which  gained 


60  THE    CiESARS. 

him  their  hearts  so  entirely.  On  other  occasions, 
when  travelling  apart  from  his  army,  he  seems  more 
frequently  to  have  rode  in  a  carriage  than  on  horse- 
hack.  His  purpose,  in  making  this  preference,  must 
have  been  with  a  view  to  the  transport  of  luggage. 
The  carriage  which  he  generally  used  was  a  rheda,  a 
sort  of  gig,  or  rather  curricle,  for  it  was  a  four-wheeled 
carriage,  and  adapted  (as  we  find  from  the  imperial 
regulations  for  the  public  carriages,  &c.)  to  the  con- 
veyance of  about  half  a  ton.  The  mere  personal 
baggage  which  Csesar  carried  with  him,  was  probably 
considerable,  for  he  was  a  man  of  the  most  elegant 
habits,  and  in  all  parts  of  his  life  sedulously  attentive 
to  elegance  of  personal  appearance.  The  length  of 
journeys  which  he  accomplished  within  a  given  time, 
appears  even  to  us  at  this  day,  and  might  well  there- 
fore appear  to  his  contemporaries,  truly  astonishing. 
A  distance  of  one  hundred  miles  was  no  extraordinary 
day's  journey  for  him  in  a  rheda,  such  as  we  have 
described  it.  So  elegant  were  his  habits,  and  so  con- 
stant his  demand  for  the  luxurious  accommodations  of 
polished  life,  as  it  then  existed  in  Rome,  that  he  is 
said  to  have  carried  with  him,  as  indispensable  parts  of 
his  personal  baggage,  the  little  lozenges  and  squares 
of  ivory,  and  other  costly  materials,  which  were  want- 
ed for  the  tessellated  flooring  of  his  tent.  Habits  such 
as  these  will  easily  account  for  his  travelling  in  a  car- 
riage rather  than  on  horseback. 


Til!,     i    .1   >  \RS.  CI 

The  courtesy  and  obliging  disposition  of  CffiSai  were 
notorious,  and  both  were  illustrated  in  sonic  anecdotes 
which  survived  for  generations  in  Home.  Dining  on 
one  occasion  at  a  table,  where  the  servants  had  inad- 
vertently, for  salad-oil,  furnished  some  sort  of  coarse 
lamp-oil,  Caesar  would  not  allow  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany to  point  out  the  mistake  to  their  host,  for  fear  of 
shocking  him  too  much  by  exposing  the  mistake.  At 
another  time,  whilst  halting  at  a  little  cabaret,  when 
one  of  his  retinue  was  suddenly  taken  ill,  Caesar 
resigned  to  his  use  the  sole  bed  which  the  house 
afforded.  Incidents  as  trifling  as  these,  express  the 
urbanity  of  ( ';esar"s  nature:  and,  hence,  one  is  more 
surprised  to  find  the  alienation  of  the  senate  charged, 
in  no  trifling  degree,  upon  a  failure  in  point  of  cour- 
tesy. Ccesar  neglected  to  rise  from  his  seat  on  their 
approaching  him  in  a  body  with  an  address  of  congrat- 
ulation. It  is  said,  and  we  can  believe  it,  that  he  gave 
deeper  offence  by  this  one  defect  in  a  matter  of  cere- 
monial observance,  than  by  all  his  substantial  attacks 
upon  their  privileges.  What  we  find  it  difficult  to 
believe,  however,  is  not  that  result  from  the  offence, 
but  the  possibility  of  the  offence  itself,  from  one  so 
little  arrogant  as  Ca>sar,  and  so  entirely  a  man  of  the 
world.  He  was  told  of  the  disgust  which  he  had 
given,  and  we  are  bound  to  believe  his  apology,  in 
which  he  charged  it  upon  sickness,  which  would  not 
at  the  moment  allow  him  to  maintain  a  standing  atti- 


62  THE    CiESARS. 

tude.  Certainly  the  whole  tenor  of  his  life  was  not 
courteous  only,  but  kind  ;  and,  to  his  enemies,  merci- 
ful in  a  degree  which  implied  so  much  more  magnani- 
mity than  men  in  general  could  understand,  that  by 
many  it  was  put  down  to  the  account  of  weakness. 

Weakness,  however,  there  was  none  in  Caius  Csesar : 
and,  that  there  might  be  none,  it  was  fortunate  that 
conspiracy  should  have  cut  him  off  in  the  full  vigor  of 
his  faculties,  in  the  very  meridian  of  his  glory,  and  on 
the  brink  of  completing  a  scries  of  gigantic  achieve- 
ments. Amongst  these  are  numbered  —  a  digest  of 
the  entire  body  of  the  laws,  even  then  become  un- 
wieldy and  oppressive  ;  the  establishment  of  vast  and 
comprehensive  public  libraries,  Greek  as  well  as  Latin  ; 
the  chastisement  of  Dacia ;  the  conquest  of  Parthia ; 
and  the  cutting  a  ship  canal  through  the  Isthmus  of 
Corinth.  The  reformation  of  the  calendar  he  had 
already  accomplished.  And  of  all  his  projects  it  may 
be  said  that  they  were  equally  patriotic  in  their  pur- 
pose, and  colossal  in  their  proportions. 

As  an  orator,  Caesar's  merit  was  so  eminent,  that, 
according  to  the  general  belief,  had  he  found  time  to 
cultivate  this  department  of  civil  exertion,  the  precise 
supremacy  of  Cicero  would  have  been  made  question- 
able, or  the  honors  would  have  been  divided.  Cicero 
himself  was  of  that  opinion  ;  and  on  different  occasions 
applied  the  epithet  Splendidus  to  Caesar,  as  though  in 
some  exclusive  sense,  or  with  a  peculiar  emphasis,  due 


Tin;   CjESABS.  63 

to  him.     His   taste  was  much   simpler,  chaster,   a 

disinclined  to  the  jlorid  and  ornamental,  than  that  of 
Cicero.  So  far  he  would,  in  that  condition  of  the 
Roman  culture  and  feeling,  have  been  less  acccptahlc 
to  the  public  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  would  have 
compensated  this  disadvantage  by  much  more  of  natu- 
ral and  Demosthenic  fervor. 

In  literature,  the  merits  of  Caesar  are  familiar  to 
most  readers.  Under  the  modest  title  of  Commen- 
taries, he  meant  to  offer  the  records  of  his  Gallic  and 
British  campaigns,  simply  as  notes,  or  memoranda, 
afterwards  to  be  worked  up  by  regular  historians ;  hut, 
as  Cicero  observes,  their  merit  was  such  in  the  eyes  of 
the  discerning,  that  all  judicious  writers  shrank  from 
the  attempt  to  alter  them.  In  another  instance  of  his 
literary  labors,  he  showed  a  very  just  sense  of  true 
dignity.  Rightly  conceiving  that  everything  patriotic 
was  dignified,  and  that  to  illustrate  or  polish  his  native 
language,  was  a  service  of  real  patriotism,  he  composed 
a  work  on  the  grammar  and  orthoepy  of  the  Latin 
language.  Cicero  and  himself  were  the  only  Romans 
of  distinction  in  that  age,  who  applied  themselves  with 
true  patriotism  to  the  task  of  purifying  and  ennobling 
their  mother  tongue.  Both  were  aware  of  the  tran- 
scendent quality  of  the  Grecian  literature  ;  but  that 
splendor  did  not  depress  their  hopes  of  raising  their 
own  to  something  of  the  same  level.  As  respected 
the   natural   wealth   of  the  two  languages,  it  was  the 


G4  THE    CAESARS. 

private  opinion  of  Cicero,  that  the  Latin  had  the  ad- 
vantage ;  and  if  Caesar  did  not  accompany  him  to  that 
length,  he  yet  felt  that  it  was  hut  the  more  necessary 
to  draw  forth  any  single  advantage  which  it  really 
had.]2 

Was  Caesar,  upon  the  whole,  the  greatest  of  men? 
Dr.  Bcattie  once  observed,  that  if  that  question  were 
left  to  be  collected  from  the  suffrages  already  express- 
ed in  books,  and  scattered  throughout  the  literature 
of  all  nations,  the  scale  would  be  found  to  have  turned 
prodigiously  in  Ca?sar's  favor,  as  against  any  single 
competitor  ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  whatsoever,  that 
even  amongst  his  own  countrymen,  and  his  own  con- 
temporaries, the  same  verdict  would  have  been  re- 
turned, had  it  been  collected  upon  the  famous  principle 
of  Themistocles,  that  he  should  be  reputed  the  first, 
whom  the  greatest  number  of  rival  voices  had  pro- 
nounced the  second. 


Tin;   i '.v.saks.  6fi 


CHAPTER   II. 

The  situation  of  the  Second  Caesar,  at  the  crisis  of 
the  great  Dictator's  assassination,  was  so  hazardous 
and  delicate,  as  to  confer  interest  upon  a  character 
not  otherwise  attractive.  To  many  we  know  it  was 
positively  repulsive,  and  in  the  very  highest  degree. 
In  particular,  it  is  recorded  of  Sir  William  Jones,  that 
he  regarded  this  emperor  with  feelings  of  abhorrence 
so  personal  and  deadly,  as  to  refuse  him  his  customary 
titular  honors  whenever  he  had  occasion  to  mention 
him  by  name.  Yet  it  was  the  whole  Roman  people 
that  conferred  upon  him  his  title  of  Augustus.  But 
Sir  William,  ascribing  no  force  to  the  acts  of  a  people 
who  had  sunk  so  low  as  to  exult  in  their  chains,  and 
to  decorate  with  honors  the  very  instruments  of  their 
own  vassalage,  would  not  recognize  this  popular  cre- 
ation, and  spoke  of  him  always  by  his  family  name 
of  Octavius.  The  flattery  of  the  populace,  by  the 
way,  must,  in  this  instance,  have  been  doubly  accept- 
able to  the  emperor,  first,  for  what  it  gave,  and 
secondly,  for  what  it  concealed.  Of  his  grand-uncle 
the  first  Caesar,  a  tradition  survives  —  that  of  all  the 
distinctions  created  in  his  favor,  either  by  the  senate 
or  the  people,  he  put  most  value  upon  the  laurel 
6 


G6  THE    C^SAKS. 

crown  which  was  voted  to  him  after  his  last  campaigns 
—  a  beautiful  and  conspicuous  memorial  to  every  eye 
of  his  great  public  acts,  and  at  the  same  time  an 
overshadowing  veil  of  his  one  sole  personal  defect. 
Tins  laurel  diadem  at  once  proclaimed  his  civic  gran- 
deur, and  concealed  his  baldness,  a  defect  which  was 
more  mortifying  to  a  Roman  than  it  would  be  to 
ourselves  from  the  peculiar  theory  which  then  pre- 
vailed as  to  its  probable  origin.  A  gratitude  of  the 
same  mixed  quality  must  naturally  have  been  felt  by 
the  Second  Caesar  for  his  title  of  Augustus,  which, 
whilst  it  illustrated  his  public  character  by  the  highest 
expression  of  majesty,  set  apart  and  sequestrated  to 
public  functions,  had  also  the  agreeable  effect  of  with- 
drawing from  the  general  remembrance  his  obscure 
descent.  For  the  Octavian  house  [_ge?is~]  had  in 
neither  of  its  branches  risen  to  any  great  splendor 
of  civic  distinction,  and  in  his  own,  to  little  or  none. 
The  same  titular  decoration,  therefore,  so  offensive  to 
the  celebrated  Whig,  was,  in  the  eyes  of  Augustus,  at 
once  a  trophy  of  public  merit,  a  monument  of  public 
gratitude,  and  an  effectual  obliteration  of  his  own  natal 
obscuritv. 

But,  if  merely  odious  to  men  of  Sir  William's  prin- 
ciples, to  others  the  character  of  Augustus,  in  relation 
to  the  circumstances  which  surrounded  him,  was  not 
without  its  appropriate  interest.  He  was  summoned 
in  early  youth,  and  without  warning,  to  face  a  crisis 


THE    C.KS.VRS.  G7 

of  tremendous  hazard,  being  at  the  same  time  himself 
a  man  of  no  very  great  constitutional  courage  ;  perhaps 
he  was  even  a  coward.  And  this  we  say  without 
meaning  to  adopt  as  gospel  truths  all  the  party  re- 
proaches of  Anthony.  Certainly  he  was  utterly  unfur- 
nished by  nature  with  those  endowments  which  seem  d 
to  be  indispensable  in  a  successor  to  the  power  of  the 
great  Dictator.  But  exactly  in  these  deficiencies,  and 
in  certain  accidents  unfavorable  to  his  ambition,  lay 
his  security.  He  had  been  adopted  by  his  grand* 
uncle,  Julius.  That  adoption  made  him,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes  of  law,  the  son  of  his  great  patron  ;  and 
doubtless,  in  a  short  time,  this  adoption  would  have 
been  applied  10  more  extensive  uses,  and  as  a  station 
of  vantage  for  introducing  him  to  the  public  favor. 
From  the  inheritance  of  the  Julian  estates  and  family 
honors,  he  would  have  been  trained  to  mount,  as  from 
a  stepping-stone,  to  the  inheritance  of  the  Julian 
power  and  political  station ;  and  the  Roman  people 
would  have  been  familiarized  to  regard  him  in  that 
character.  But,  luckily  for  himself,  the  finishing,  or 
ceremonial  acts,  were  yet  wanting  in  this  process  — 
the  political  heirship  was  inchoate  and  imperfect. 
Tacitly  understood,  indeed,  it  was  ;  but  had  it  been 
formally  proposed  and  ratified,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt 
that  the  young  Octavius  would  have  been  pointed  out 
to  the  vengeance  of  the  patriots,  and  included  in  the 
scheme  of  the  conspirators,  as  a  fellow-victim  with  his 


68  THE    C.ES.VRS. 

nominal  father;  and  would  have  been  cut  off  too  sud- 
denly to  benefit  by  that  re-action  of  popular  feeling 
which  saved  the  partisans  of  the  Dictator,  by  separat- 
ing the  conspirators,  and  obliging  tbem,  without  loss 
of  time,  to  look  to  their  own  safety.  It  was  by  this 
fortunate  accident  that  the  young  heir  and  adopted  son 
of  the  first  Caesar  not  only  escaped  assassination,  but 
was  enabled  to  postpone  indefinitely  the  final  and 
military  struggle  for  the  vacant  seat  of  empire,  and 
in  the  meantime  to  maintain  a  coequal  rank  with  the 
leaders  in  the  state,  by  those  arts  and  resources  in 
which  he  was  superior  to  his  competitors.  His  place 
in  the  favor  of  Caius  Julius  was  of  power  sufficient  to 
give  him  a  share  in  any  triumvirate  which  could  be 
formed  ;  but,  wanting  the  formality  of  a  regular  intro- 
duction to  the  people,  and  the  ratification  of  their 
acceptance,  that  place  was  not  sufficient  to  raise  him 
permanently  into  the  perilous  and  invidious  station  of 
absolute  supremacy  which  he  afterwards  occupied. 
The  felicity  of  Augustus  was  often  vaunted  by  an- 
tiquity, (with  whom  success  was  not  so  much  a  test 
of  merit  as  itself  a  merit  of  the  highest  quality,)  and 
in  no  instance  was  this  felicity  more  conspicuous  than 
in  the  first  act  of  his  entrance  upon  the  political  scene. 
No  doubt  his  friends  and  enemies  alike  thought  of 
him,  at  the  moment  of  Caesar's  assassination,  as  we 
now  think  of  a  young  man  heir-elect  to  some  person 
of  immense  wealth,  cut  off  by  a  sudden  death  before 


THE    C^ISARS.  69 

he  has  had  time  to  ratify  a  will  in  execution  of  his 
purposes.  Yet  in  fact  the  ease  was  far  others 
Brought  forward  distinctly  as  the  successor  of  Caesar's 
power,  had  he  even,  by  some  favorable  accident  of 
absence  from  Rome,  or  otherwise,  escaped  being  in- 
volved in  that  great  man's  fate,  he  would  at  all  events 
have  been  thrown  upon  the  instant  necessity  of  de- 
fending his  supreme  station  by  arms.  To  have  left  it 
unasserted,  when  once  solemnly  created  in  his  favor 
by  a  reversionary  title,  would  have  been  deliberately 
to  resign  it.  This  would  have  been  a  confession  of 
weakness  liable  to  no  disguise,  and  ruinous  to  any 
subsequent  pretensions.  Yet,  without  preparation  of 
means,  with  no  development  of  resources  nor  growth 
of  circumstances,  an  appeal  to  arms  would,  in  his  case, 
have  been  of  very  doubtful  issue.  His  true  weapons, 
for  a  long  period,  were  the  arts  of  vigilance  and  dis- 
simulation. Cultivating  these,  he  was  enabled  to  pre- 
pare for  a  contest  which,  undertaken  prematurely,  must 
have  ruined  him,  and  to  raise  himself  to  a  station  of 
even  military  preeminence  to  those  who  naturally,  and 
by  circumstances,  were  originally  every  way  superior 
to  himself. 

The  qualities  in  which  he  really  excelled,  the  gifts 
of  intrigue,  patience,  long  suffering,  dissimulation,  and 
tortuous  fraud,  were  thus  brought  into  play,  and 
allowed  their  full  value.  Such  qualities  had  every 
chance  of  prevailing  in  the  long  run,  against  the  noble 


70  THE    C^SABS. 

carelessness  and  the  impetuosity  of  the  passionate 
Anthony  —  and  they  did  prevail.  Always  on  the 
watch  to  lay  hold  of  those  opportunities  which  the 
generous  negligence  of  his  rival  was  but  too  frequently 
throwing  in  his  way  —  unless  by  the  sudden  reverses 
of  war  and  the  accidents  of  battle,  which  as  much  as 
possible,  and  as  long  as  possible,  he  declined  —  there 
could  be  little  question  in  any  man's  mind,  that 
eventually  he  would  win  his  way  to  a  solitary  throne, 
by  a  policy  so  full  of  caution  and  subtlety.  He  was 
sure  to  risk  nothing  which  could  be  had  on  easier 
terms  ;  and  nothing  unless  for  a  great  overbalance  of 
gain  in  prospect ;  to  lose  nothing  which  he  had  once 
gained  ;  and  in  no  case  to  miss  an  advantage,  or  sacri- 
fice an  opportunity,  by  any  consideration  of  gene- 
rosity. No  modern  insurance  office  but  would  have 
guaranteed  an  event  depending  upon  the  final  success 
of  Augustus,  on  terms  far  below  those  which  they 
must  in  prudence  have  exacted  from  the  fiery  and 
adventurous  Anthony.  Each  was  an  ideal  in  his  own 
class.  But  Augustus,  having  finally  triumphed,  has 
met  with  more  than  justice  from  succeeding  ages. 
Even  Lord  Bacon  says,  that,  by  compai'ison  with 
Julius  Caesar,  he  was  '  non  tarn  irnpar  quam  dispar,' 
surely  a  most  extravagant  encomium,  applied  to  whom- 
soever. On  the  other  hand,  Anthony,  amongst  the 
most  signal  misfortunes  of  his  life,  might  number  it, 
that  Cicero,   the  great    dispenser   of   immortality,   in 


Tin;    OE8AB8.  71 

whose  hands  (more  perhaps  than  in  any  one  man's  of 
any  age)  were  the  vials  of  good  and  evil  fame,  should 
happen  to  have  heen  his  hitter  and  persevering  enemy. 
It  is,  however,  some  halance  to  this,  that  Shakspeare 
had  a  just  conception  of  the  original  grandeur  which 
lay  hencath  that  wild  tempestuous  nature  presented  by 
Anthony  to  the  eye  of  the  ^discriminating  world.  It 
is  to  the  honor  of  Shakspeare  that  he  should  have  been 
able  to  discern  the  true  coloring  of  this  most  original 
character  under  the  smoke  and  tarnish  of  antiquity. 
It  is  no  less  to  the  honor  of  the  great  triumvir,  that  a 
strength  of  coloring  should  survive  in  his  character, 
capable  of  baffling  the  wrongs  and  ravages  of  time. 
Neither  is  it  to  be  thought  strange  that  a  character 
should  have  been  misunderstood  and  falsely  appreciated 
for  nearly  two  thousand  years.  It  happens  not  uncom- 
monly, especially  amongst  an  unimaginative  people, 
like  the  Romans,  that  the  characters  of  men  are 
ciphers  and  enigmas  to  their  own  age,  and  are  first 
read  and  interpreted  by  a  far  distant  posterity.  Stars 
arc  supposed  to  exist,  whose  light  has  been  travelling 
for  many  thousands  of  years  without  having  yet 
reached  our  system ;  and  the  eyes  are  yet  unborn 
upon  which  their  earliest  rays  will  fall.  Men  like 
Mark  Anthony,  with  minds  of  chaotic  composition  — 
light  conflicting  with  darkness,  proportions  of  colossal 
grandeur  disfigured  by  unsymmetrical  arrangement, 
the  angelic  in  close  neighborhood  with  the  brutal  —  are 


72  THE    C^SARS. 

first  read  in  their  true  meaning  by  an  age  learned  in 
the  philosophy  of  the  human  heart.  Of  this  philosophy 
the  Romans  had,  by  the  necessities  of  education  and 
domestic  discipline,  not  less  than  by  original  constitu- 
tion of  mind,  the  very  narrowest  visual  range.  In  no 
literature  whatsoever  are  so  few  tolerable  notices  to  be 
found  of  any  great  truths  in  Psychology.  Nor  could 
this  have  been  otherwise  amongst  a  people  who  tried 
everything  by  the  standard  of  social  value  ;  never 
seeking  for  a  canon  of  excellence,  in  man  considered 
abstractedly  in  and  for  himself,  and  as  having  an 
independent  value  —  but  always  and  exclusively  in 
man  as  a  gregarious  being,  and  designed  for  social  uses 
and  functions.  Not  man  in  his  own  peculiar  nature, 
but  man  in  his  relations  to  other  men,  was  the  station 
from  which  the  Roman  speculators  took  up  their 
philosophy  of  human  nature.  Tried  by  such  standard, 
Mark  Anthony  would  be  found  wanting.  As  a  citizen, 
he  was  irretrievably  licentious,  and  therefore  there 
needed  not  the  bitter  personal  feud,  which  circum- 
stances had  generated  between  them,  to  account  for 
the  acharnement  with  which  Cicero  pursued  him.  Had 
Anthony  been  his  friend  even,  or  his  near  kinsman, 
Cicero  must  still  have  been  his  public  enamy.  And 
not  merely  for  his  vices ;  for  even  the  grander  features 
of  his  character,  his  towering  ambition,  his  magna- 
nimity, and  the  fascinations  of  his  popular  qualities,  — 
were  all,  in  the  circumstances  of  those  times,  and  in 
his  position,  of  a  tendency  dangerously  uncivic. 


i  II  E    I  J5SAB9.  73 

So  remarkable  was  the  opposition,  at  all  points,  be- 
between  the  second  Caesar  and  his  rival,  that  whereas 

Anthony  even  in  his  virtues   seemed   dangerous  to  the 
state,  Octavius  gave  a  civic  coloring  to  his  most  indiffer- 
ent actions,  and,  with  a  Machiavelian  policy,  observed 
a  scrupulous  regard  to  the  forms  of  the  Republic,  after 
every  fragment  of  the  republican  institutions,  the  privi- 
leges of  the  republican  magistrates,  and  the  functions 
of  the  great  popular  officers,  had  been  absorbed  into 
his    own    autocracy.      Even    in    the    most    prosperous 
days  of  the  Roman  State,  when  the  democratic  forces 
balanced,  and  were  balanced  by,  those  of  the  aristoc- 
racy, it   was    far    from    being    a    general    or    common 
praise,  that  a  man  was  of  a  civic  turn  of  mind,  animo 
ririli.     Yet  this  praise  did  Augustus   affect,    and    in 
reality  attain,   at  a  time   when   the   very  object  of  all 
civic  feeling  was  absolutely  extinct;   so  much  are  men 
governed  by  words.     Suetonius  assures  us,  that  many 
evidences  were  current  even  to  his  times  of  this  popu- 
lar disposition  (civili/as)  in   the   emperor  ;   and   that  it 
survived  every  experience  of  servile  adulation  in   the 
Roman  populace,  and  all  the  effects  of  long  familiarity 
with  irresponsible  power  in   himself.     Such  a  modera- 
tion of  feeling,  we  arc  almost  obliged  to  consider  as  a 
genuine  and  unaffected  expression  of  his  real  nature  ; 
for,  as  an  artifice  of  policy,  it  had  soon  lost  its  uses. 
And  it  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  with  the  army  he  laid 
aside    those    popular    manners   as   soon    as    possible, 
7 


74  THE     CJESARS. 

addressing  them  as  milites,  not  (according  to  his  ear- 
lier practice)  as  commilitones.  It  concerned  his  own 
security,  to  he  jealous  of  encroachments  on  his  power. 
But  of  his  rank,  and  the  honors  which  accompanied  it, 
he  seems  to  have  been  uniformly  careless.  Thus,  he 
would  never  leave  a  town  or  enter  it  by  daylight, 
unless  some  higher  rule  of  policy  obliged  him  to  do  so  ; 
by  which  means  he  evaded  a  ceremonial  of  public 
honor  which  was  burdensome  to  all  the  parties  con- 
cerned in  it.  Sometimes,  however,  we  find  that  men, 
careless  of  honors  in  their  own  persons,  are  glad  to 
see  them  settling  upon  their  family  and  immediate 
connections.  But  here  again  Augustus  showed  the 
sincerity  of  his  moderation.  For  upon  one  occasion, 
when  the  whole  audience  in  the  Roman  theatre  had 
risen  upon  the  entrance  of  his  two  adopted  sons, 
at  that  time  not  seventeen  years  old,  he  was  highly 
displeased,  and  even  thought  it  necessary  to  publish 
his  displeasure  in  a  separate  edict.  It  is  another,  and 
a  striking  illustration  of  his  humility,  that  he  willingly 
accepted  of  public  appointments,  and  sedulously  dis- 
charged the  duties  attached  to  them,  in  conjunction 
with  colleagues  who  had  been  chosen  with  little  regard 
to  his  personal  partialities.  In  the  debates  of  the 
senate,  he  showed  the  same  equanimity  ;  suffering 
himself  patiently  to  be  contradicted,  and  even  with 
circumstances  of  studied  incivility.  In  the  public 
elections,   he  gave  his  vote  like  any  private  citizen ; 


TIIK    C.SSAB8.  75 

and,  when  he  happened  to  be  a  candidate  himself,  he 
canvassed  the  electors  with  the  same  earnestness  of 
personal  application,  as  any  other  candidate  with  the 
least  possible  title  to  public  favor  from  present  power 
or  past  services.  But,  perhaps  by  no  expressions  of 
his  civic  spirit  did  Augustus  so  much  conciliate  men's 
minds,  as  by  the  readiness  with  which  he  participated 
in  their  social  pleasures,  and  by  the  uniform  severity 
with  which  he  refused  to  apply  his  influence  in  any  way 
which  could  disturb  the  pure  administration  of  justice. 
The  Roman  juries  (judices  they  were  called),  were 
very  corrupt  ;  and  easily  swayed  to  an  unconscientious 
verdict,  by  the  appearance  in  court  of  any  great  man 
on  behalf  of  one  of  the  parties  interested  ;  nor  was 
such  an  interference  with  the  course  of  private  justice 
any  ways  injurious  to  the  great  man's  character.  The 
wrong  wdiich  he  promoted  did  but  the  more  forcibly 
proclaim  the  warmth  and  fidelity  of  his  friendships. 
So  much  the  more  generally  was  the  uprightness  of 
the  emperor  appreciated,  who  would  neither  tamper 
with  justice  himself  nor  countenance  any  motion  in 
that  direction,  though  it  were  to  serve  his  wry  dearest 
friend,  cither  by  his  personal  presence,  or  by  the  use 
of  his  name.  And,  as  if  it  had  been  a  trifle  merely  to 
forbear,  and  to  show  his  regard  to  justice  in  this  nega- 
tive way,  he  even  allowed  himself  to  be  summoned  as 
a  witness  on  trials,  and  showed  no  anger  when  his  own 
evidence  was  overhorne  by  stronger  on  the  other  side. 


76  THK    CAESARS. 

This  disinterested  love  of  justice,  and  an  integrity,  so 
rare  in  the  great  men  of  Rome,  could  not  hut  com- 
mand the  reverence  of  the  people.  But  their  affection, 
doubtless,  was  more  conciliated  by  the  freedom  with 
which  the  emperor  accepted  invitations  from  all  quar- 
ters, and  shared  continually  in  the  festal  pleasures  of 
his  subjects.  This  practice,  however,  he  discontinued, 
or  narrowed,  as  he  advanced  in  years.  Suetonius, 
who,  as  a  true  anecdote-monger,  would  solve  every 
thing,  and  account  for  every  change  by  some  definite 
incident,  charges  this  alteration  in  the  emperor's  con- 
descensions upon  one  particular  party  at  a  wedding 
feast,  where  the  crowd  incommoded  him  much  by  their 
pressure  and  heat.  But,  doubtless,  it  happened  to 
Augustus  as  to  other  men  ;  his  spirits  failed,  and  his 
powers  of  supporting  fatigue  or  bustle,  as  years  stole 
upon  him.  Changes,  coming  by  insensible  steps,  and 
not  willingly  acknowledged,  for  some  time  escape 
notice ;  until  some  sudden  shock  reminds  a  man  for- 
cibly to  do  that  which  he  has  long  meditated  in  an 
irresolute  way.  The  marriage  banquet  may  have  been 
the  particular  occasion  from  which  Augustus  stepped 
into  the  habits  of  old  age,  but  certainly  not  the  cause 
of  so  entire  a  revolution  in  his  mode  of  living. 

It  might  seem  to  throw  some  doubt,  if  not  upon  the 
fact,  yet  at  least  upon  the  sincerity,  of  his  civistn,  that 
undoubtedly  Augustus  cultivated  his  kingly  connec- 
tions with   considerable   anxiety.     It  may  have   been 


TIIK    CJE3AE3.  77 

upon  motives  merely  political  thai  he  kepi  at  Rome  the> 
children  of  nearly  all  the  kings  then  known  us  allies  or 
vassals  of  the  Roman  power:  a  curious  fact,  and  not 
generally  known.  In  Ins  own  palace  were  reared  a 
number  of  youthful  princes  ;  and  they  were  educated 
jointly  with  his  own  children.  It  is  also  upon  record, 
tkat  in  many  instances  the  fathers  of  these  princes 
spontaneously  repaired  to  Rome,  and  there  assuming 
the  Roman  dress  —  as  an  expression  of  reverence  to 
the  majesty  of  the  omnipotent  State  —  did  personal 
'  suit  and  service  '  [more  clientum)  to  Augustus.  It  is 
an  anecdote  of  not  less  curiosity,  that  a  whole  '  college' 
of  kings  subscribed  money  for  a  temple  at  Athens,  to 
be  dedicated  in  the  name  of  Augustus.  Throughout 
his  life,  indeed,  this  emperor  paid  a  marked  attention 
to  all  royal  houses  then  known  to  Rome,  as  occu- 
pying the  thrones  upon  the  vast  margin  of  the  empire. 
It  is  true  that  in  part  this  attention  might  be  interpreted 
as  given  politically  to  so  many  lieutenants,  wielding  a 
remote  or  inaccessible  power  for  the  benefit  of  Rome. 
And  the  children  of  these  kings  might  be  regarded  as 
hostages,  ostensibly  entertained  for  the  sake  of  educa- 
tion, but  really  as  pledges  for  their  parents'  fidelity, 
and  also  with  a  view  to  the  large  reversionary  advan- 
tages which  might  be  expected  to  arise  upon  the  1>. 
of  so  early  and  affectionate  a  connection.  But  it  is  not 
the  less  true,  that,  at  one  period  of  his  life,  Augustus 
did  certainly  meditate  some  closer  personal  connection 


7o  THE    CiESARS. 

with  tlie  royal  families  of  the  earth.  He  speculated, 
undoubtedly,  on  a  marriage  for  himself  -with  some 
barbarous  princess,  and  at  one  time  designed  his  daugh- 
ter Julia  as  a  wife  for  Cotiso,  the  king  of  the  Getae. 
Superstition  perhaps  disturbed  the  one  scheme,  and 
policy  the  other.  He  married,  as  is  well  known,  for 
his  final  wife,  and  the  partner  of  his  life  through  its 
whole  triumphant  stage,  Livia  Drusilla  ;  compelling  her 
husband,  Tiberius  Xero,  to  divorce  her,  notwithstand- 
ing she  was  then  six  months  advanced  in  pregnancy. 
With  this  lady,  who  was  distinguished  for  her  beauty, 
it  is  certain  that  he  was  deeply  in  love  ;  and  that  might 
be  sufficient  to  account  for  the  marriage.  It  is  equally 
certain,  however,  upon  the  concurring  evidence  of  in- 
dependent writers,  that  this  connection  had  an  oracu- 
lar sanction  —  not  to  say  suggestion  ;  a  circumstance 
which  was  long  remembered,  and  was  afterwards  noticed 
by  the  Christian  poet  Prudentius  : 

'  Idque  Deiim  sortes  et  Apollinis  antra  dederunt 
Consilium  :  nunquam  melius  nam  credere  tsedas 
Responsum  est,  quam  cum  prtegnans  nova  nupta  jugatur.' 

His  daughter  Julia  had  been  promised  by  turns,  and 
always  upon  reasons  of  state,  to  a  whole  muster-roll 
of  suitors  ;  first  of  all,  to  a  son  of  Mark  Anthony  ; 
secondly,  to  the  barbarous  king  ;  thirdly,  to  her  first 
cousin  —  that  Marcellus,  the  son  of  Octavia,  only  sister 
to  Augustus,  whose  early  death,  in  the  midst  of  great 
expectations,  Virgil  has  so  beautifully  introduced  into 


THK    C.ES.VRS.  7(J 

tVie  vision  of  Roman  grandeurs  as  yet  unborn,  which 
./Eneas  beholds  in  the  shades;  fourthly,  she  was  pro- 
mised ''and  this  time  the  promise  was  kept)  to  the 
fortunate  soldier,  Agrippa,  whose  low  birth  was  not 
permitted  to  obscure  his  military  merits.  By  him  she 
had  a  family  of  children,  upon  whom,  if  upon  any  in 
this  world  the  wrath  of  Providence  seems  to  have 
rested ;  for,  excepting  one,  and  in  spite  of  all  the 
favors  that  earth  and  heaven  could  unite  to  shower 
upon  them,  all  came  to  an  early,  a  violent,  and  an 
infamous  end.  Fifthly,  upon  the  death  of  Agrippa, 
and  again  upon  motives  of  policy,  and  in  atrocious 
contempt  of  all  the  tics  that  nature  and  the  human 
heart  and  human  laws  have  hallowed,  she  was  prom- 
ised, (if  that  word  may  be  applied  to  the  violent 
obtrusion  upon  a  man's  bed  of  one  who  was  doubly  a 
curse  —  first,  for  what  she  brought,  and,  secondly,  for 
what  she  took  away,)  and  given  to  Tiberius,  the  future 
emperor.  Upon  the  whole,  as  far  as  we  can  at  this 
day  make  out  the  connection  of  a  man's  acts  and 
purposes,  which,  even  to  his  own  age,  were  never 
entirely  cleared  up,  it  is  probable  that,  so  long  as  the 
triumvirate  survived,  and  so  long  as  the  condition  of 
Roman  power  or  intrigues,  and  the  distribution  of  Ro- 
man influence,  were  such  as  to  leave  a  possibility  that 
any  new  triumvirate  should  arise  —  so  long  Augustus 
was  secretly  meditating  a  retreat  for  himself  at  some 
barbarous  court,  against  any  sudden  reverse  of  fortune 


80  THE    CAESARS. 

by  means  of  a  domestic  connection,  which  should  give 
him  the  claim  of  a  kinsman.     Such  a  court,  however 
unable  to  make  head  against  the  collective  power  of 
Rome,  might  yet  present  a  front  of  resistance  to  any 
single  partisan  who  should  happen   to   acquire  a  brief 
ascendancy ;  or,  at  the  worst,   as  a  merely  defensive 
power,  might  offer  a  retreat,  secure  in  distance,  and 
difficult  of  access ;  or  might  be  available  as  a  means 
of  delay  for  recovering  from  some  else  fatal  defeat.     It 
is  certain  that  Augustus  viewed  Egypt  with  jealousy 
as  a  province,  which  might  be  turned  to  account  in 
some   such  way  by  any  inspiring   insurgent.     And  it 
must  have  often  struck  him  as  a  remarkable  circum- 
stance, which  by  good  luck  had  turned  out  entirely 
to  the  advantage  of  his  own  family,  but  which  might 
as  readily  have  had  an  opposite  result,  that  the  three 
decisive   battles    of    Pharsalia,    of    Thapsus,    and    of 
Munda,  in  which  the  empire  of  the  world  was  three 
times  over  staked  as  the  prize,  had  severally  brought 
upon    the    defeated    leaders    a   ruin   which  was  total, 
absolute,  and  final.     One  hour  had    seen    the  whole 
fabric  of  their  aspiring  fortunes  demolished  ;   and  no 
resource  was  left  to  them  but  either  in  suicide,  (which, 
accordingly   even   Caesar  had  meditated   at  one  stage 
of  the  battle  of  Munda,  when  it  seemed  to  be  going 
against  him,)  or  in  the  mercy  of  the  victor. 

That    a    victor    in  a  hundred  fights   should  in  his 
hundred-and-first,13  as  in  his  first,  risk  the  loss  of  that 


•I  ii  E    I  S8AB8.  Si 

particular  battle,  is  inseparable  from  the  condition  of 
man,  and  the  uncertainty  of  human  means;  but  that 
the  loss  of  this  one  battle  should  be  equally  fatal  and 
irrecoverable  with  the  loss  of  his  first,  that  it  should 
leave  him  with  means  no  more  cemented,  and  re- 
sources no  better  matured  for  retarding  his  fall,  and 
throwing  a  long  succession  of  hindrances  in  the  way 
of  his  conqueror,  argues  some  essential  defect  of  sys- 
tem. Under  our  modern  policy,  military  power  — 
though  it  may  be  the  growth  of  one  man's  life  —  soon 
takes  root;  a  succession  of  campaigns  is  required  for 
its  extirpation ;  and  it  revolves  backwards  to  its  final 
extinction  through  all  the  stages  by  which  originally 
it  grew.  On  the  Roman  system  this  was  mainly 
impossible  from  the  solitariness  of  the  Roman  power ; 
co-rival  nations  who  might  balance  the  victorious 
party,  there  were  absolutely  none ;  and  all  the  under- 
lings hastened  to  make  their  peace,  whilst  peace  was 
yet  open  to  them,  on  the  known  terms  of  absolute 
treachery  to  their  former  master,  and  instant  surrender 
to  the  victor  of  the  hour.  For  this  capital  defect  in 
the  tenure  of  Roman  power,  no  matter  in  whose  hands 
deposited,  there  was  no  absolute  remedy.  Many  a 
sleepless  night,  during  the  perilous  game  which  he 
played  with  Anthony,  must  have  familiarized  Octavius 
with  that  view  of  the  risk,  which  to  some  ext  nl  was 
inseparable  from  his  position  as  the  leader  in  such  a 
struggle   carried  on   in   such  an    empire.      In    this  di- 


82  the   cj:saiis. 

lemma,  struck  with  the  extreme  necessity  of  applying 
some  palliation  to  the  case,  we  have  no  doubt  that 
Augustus  would  devise  the  scheme  of  laying  some 
distant  king  under  such  obligations  to  fidelity  as  would 
suffice  to  stand  the  first  shock  of  misfortune.  Such  a 
person  would  have  power  enough  of  a  direct  military 
kind,  to  face  the  storm  at  its  outbreak.  He  would 
have  power  of  another  kind  in  his  distance.  He  would 
be  sustained  by  the  courage  of  hope,  as  a  kinsman 
having  a  contingent  interest  in  a  kinsman's  prosperity. 
And,  finally,  he  would  be  sustained  by  the  courage  of 
despair,  as  one  who  never  could  expect  to  be  trusted 
by  the  opposite  party.  In  the  worst  case,  such  a 
prince  would  always  offer  a  breathing  time  and  a 
respite  to  his  friends,  were  it  only  by  his  remoteness, 
and  if  not  the  means  of  rallying,  yet  at  least  the  time 
for  rallying,  more  especially  as  the  escape  to  his  fron- 
tier would  be  easy  to  one  who  had  long  forecast  it. 
We  can  hardly  doubt  that  Augustus  meditated  such 
schemes  ;  that  he  laid  them  aside  only  as  his  power 
began  to  cement  and  to  knit  together  after  the  battle 
of  Actium  ;  and  that  the  memory  and  the  prudential 
tradition  of  this  plan  survived  in  the  imperial  family  so 
long  as  itself  survived.  Amongst  other  anecdotes  of 
the  same  tendency,  two  are  recorded  of  Nero,  the 
emperor  in  whom  expired  the  line  of  the  original 
Caesars,  which  strengthen  us  in  a  belief  of  what  is 
otherwise    in   itself  so    probable.     Xero,  in    his   first 


Tin:    0-S9  LUS.  83 

distractions,  upon  receiving  the  fatal  tidings  of  the 
revolt  in  Gaul,  when  reviewing  all  possible  plans  of 
escape  from  the  impending  clanger,  thought  at  intervals 
of  throwing  himself  on  the  protection  of  the  barbarous 
King  Vologesus.  And  twenty  years  afterwards,  when 
the  Pseudo-Nero  appeared,  he  found  a  strenuous  cham- 
pion and  protector  in  the  King  of  the  Parthians.  Pos- 
sibly, had  an  opportunity  offered  for  searching  the 
Parthian  chancery,  some  treaty  would  have  been  found 
binding  the  kings  of  Parthia,  from  the  age  of  Augustus 
through  some  generations  downwards,  in  requital  of 
services  there  specified,  or  of  treasures  lodged,  to 
secure  a  perpetual  asylum  to  the  prosperity  of  the 
Julian  family. 

The  cruelties  of  Augustus  were  perhaps  equal  in 
atrocity  to  any  which  are  recorded  ;  and  the  equivocal 
apology  for  those  acts  (one  which  might  as  well  be 
used  to  aggravate  as  to  palliate  the  case)  is,  that  they 
were  not  prompted  by  a  ferocious  nature,  but  by  cal- 
culating policy.  He  once  actually  slaughtered  upon 
an  altar  a  large  body  of  his  prisoners  :  and  such  was 
the  contempt  with  which  he  was  regarded  by  some  of 
that  number,  that,  when  led  out  to  death,  they  saluted 
their  other  proscribcr.  Anthony,  with  military  honors, 
acknowledging  merit  even  in  an  enemy,  but  Augustus 
they  passed  with  scornful  silence,  or  with  loud  re- 
proaches. Too  certainly  no  man  has  ever  contended 
for  empire    with    unsullied    conscience,  or    laid    pure 


84  THE    C2ESARS. 

hands  upon  the  ark  of  so  magnificent  a  prize.  Every 
friend  to  Augustus  must  have  wished  that  the  twelve 
years  of  his  struggle  might  for  ever  be  blotted  out  from 
human  remembrance.  During  the  forty- two  years  of 
his  prosperity  and  his  triumph,  being  above  fear,  he 
showed  the  natural  lenity  of  his  temper. 

That  prosperity,  in  a  public  sense,  has  been  rarely 
equalled  ;  but  far  different  was  his  fate,  and  memorable 
was  the  contrast,  within  the  circuit  of  his  own  family. 
This  lord  of  the  universe  groaned  as  often  as  the  ladies 
of  his  house,  his  daughter  and  grand-daughter,  were 
mentioned.  The  shame  which  he  felt  on  their  account, 
led  him  even  to  unnatural  designs,  and  to  wishes  not 
less  so  ;  for  at  one  time  he  entertained  a  plan  for 
putting  the  elder  Julia  to  death  —  and  at  another,  upon 
hearing  that  Phoebe  (one  of  the  female  slaves  in  his 
household)  had  hanged  herself,  he  exclaimed  audibly, 
—  '  Would  that  I  had  been  the  father  of  Phoebe  ! '  It 
must,  however,  be  granted,  that  in  this  miserable  affair 
he  behaved  with  very  little  of  his  usual  discretion.  In 
the  first  paroxysms  of  his  rage,  on  discovering  his 
daughter's  criminal  conduct,  he  made  a  communication 
of  the  whole  to  the  senate.  That  body  could  do  noth- 
ing in  such  a  matter,  cither  by  act  or  by  suggestion ; 
and  in  a  short  time,  as  everybody  could  have  foreseen, 
he  himself  repented  of  his  own  want  of  self-command. 
Upon  the  whole,  it  cannot  be  denied,  that,  according 
to  the  remark  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  of  all  the  men  signally 


i  in.    i  .i.-\  85 

decorated  by  history,  Augustus  Caesar  is  that  one  who 
exemplifies,  in  the  most  emphatic  terms,  the  mixed 
tenor  of  human  life,  and  the  cquitahlc  distribution, 
even  on  this  earth,  of  good  and  evil  fortune.  He  made 
himself  muster  of  the  world,  and  against  the  most  for- 
midable competitors  ;  his  power  was  absolute,  from  the 
rising  to  the  setting  sun  ;  and  yet  in  his  own  house, 
where  the  peasant  who  does  the  humblest  chares, 
claims  an  undisputed  authority,  he  was  baffled,  dishon- 
ored, and  made  ridiculous.  He  was  loved  by  nobody  ; 
and  if,  at  the  moment  of  his  death,  he  desired  his 
friends  to  dismiss  him  from  this  world  by  the  common 
expression  of  sccnical  applause,  (vos  plaudite  /)  in  that 
valedictory  injunction  he  expressed  inadvertently  the 
true  value  of  his  own  long  life,  which,  in  strict  candor, 
may  be  pronounced  one  continued  series  of  histrionic 
efforts,  and  of  excellent  acting,  adapted  to  selfish 
ends. 


86  THE    C^SARS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

/ 
The  next  three  emperors,  Caligula,  Claudius,  and 

Nero,  were  the  last  princes  who  had  any  connection 
by  blood  H  with  the  Julian  house.  In  Nero,  the  sixth 
emperor,  expired  the  last  of  the  Caesars,  who  was  such 
in  reality.  These  three  were  also  the  first  in  that  long 
line  of  monsters,  who,  at  different  times,  under  the  title 
of  Caesars,  dishonored  humanity  more  memorably,  than 
was  possible,  except  in  the  cases  of  those  (if  any  such 
can  be  named)  who  have  abused  the  same  enormous 
powers  in  times  of  the  same  civility,  and  in  defiance  of 
the  same  general  illumination.  Rut  for  them  it  is  a 
fact,  that  some  crimes,  which  now  stain  the  page  of 
history,  would  have  been  accounted  fabulous  dreams 
of  impure  romancers,  taxing  their  extravagant  imagi- 
nations to  create  combinations  of  wickedness  more 
hideous  than  civilized  men  would  tolerate,  and  more 
unnatural  than  the  human  heart  could  conceive.  Let 
us,  by  way  of  example,  take  a  short  chapter  from  the 
diabolical  life  of  Caligula  :  —  In  what  way  did  he  treat 
his  nearest  and  tenderest  female  connections  ?  His 
mother  had  been  tortured  and  murdered  by  another 
tyrant  almost  as  fiendish  as  himself.  She  was  happily 
removed  from  his  cruelty.      Disdaining,    however,    to 


xiil  c-esabs.  87 

acknowledge  any  connection  with  the  blood  of  so  ob- 
scure a  man  as  Agrippa,  he  publicly  gave  out  that  his 
mother  was  indeed  the  daughter  of  Julia,  but  by  an 
incestuous  commerce  with  her  father  Augustus.  His 
three  sisters  he  debauched.  One  die  J,  and  her  he 
canoniz  id  ;  the  other  two  lie  prostituted  to  the  has  -t 
of  his  own  attendants.  Of  his  wives,  it  would  be  hard 
to  say  whether  they  were  first  sought  and  won  with 
more  circumstances  of  injury  and  outrage,  or  dismissed 
with  more  insult  and  levity.  The  one  whom  he  treat- 
ed best,  and  with  most  profession  of  love,  and  who 
commonly  rode  by  his  side,  equipped  with  spear  and 
shield,  to  his  military  inspections  and  reviews  of  the 
soldiery,  though  not  particularly  beautiful,  was  exhib- 
ited to  his  friends  at  banquets  in  a  state  of  absolute 
nudity.  His  motive  for  treating  her  with  so  much 
kindness,  was,  probably  that  she  brought  him  a 
daughter ;  and  her  he  acknowledged  as  his  own  child, 
from  the  (arlv  brutality  with  which  she  attacked  the 
eves  and  cheeks  of  other  infants  who  were  presented 
to  her  as  play-fellows.  Hence  it  would  appear  that 
he  was  aware  of  his  own  ferocity,  and  treated  it  as  a 
jest.  The  levity,  indeed,  which  he  mingled  with  his 
worst  and  most  inhuman  acts,  and  the  slightness  of 
the  occasions  upon  which  he  delighted  to  hang  his  most 
memorable  atrocit  gravated  their  impression  at 

the  time,  and  must  have  contributed  greatly  to  sharpen 
the  sword  of  vengeance.      His  palace  happ  in  id  to  be 


88  THE    CAESARS. 

contiguous  to  the  circus.  Some  scats,  it  seems,  were 
open  indiscriminately  to  the  public  ;  consequently,  the 
only  way  in  which  they  could  be  appropriated,  was  by 
taking  possession  of  them  as  early  as  the  midnight  pre- 
ceding any  great  exhibitions.  Once,  when  it  happened 
that  his  sleep  was  disturbed  by  such  an  occasion,  he 
sent  in  soldiers  to  eject  them;  and  with  orders  so  rig- 
orous, as  it  appeared  by  the  event,  that  in  this  singular 
tumult,  twenty  Roman  knights,  and  as  many  mothers 
of  families,  were  cudgelled  to  death  upon  the  spot,  to 
say  nothing  of  what  the  reporter  calls  'innumeram 
turbam  cetcram.' 

But  this  is  a  trifle  to  another  anecdote  reported  by 
the  same  authority  :  —  On  some  occasion  it  happened 
that  a  dearth  prevailed,  either  generally  of  cattle,  or  of 
such  cattle  as  were  used  for  feeding  the  wild  beasts 
reserved  for  the  bloody  exhibitions  of  the  amphitheatre. 
Food  could  be  had,  and  perhaps  at  no  very  exorbitant 
price,  but  on  terms  somewhat  higher  than  the  ordinary 
market  price.  A  slight  excuse  served  with  Caligula 
for  acts  the  most  monstrous.  Instantly  repairing  to 
the  public  jails,  and  causing  all  the  prisoners  to  pass  in 
review  before  him  (custodiarum  scriem  recognoscens), 
he  pointed  to  two  bald-headed  men,  and  ordered  that 
the  whole  file  of  intermediate  persons  should  be 
marched  off  to  the  dens  of  the  wild  beasts  :  '  Tell 
them  off,'  said  he,  'from  the  bald  man  to  the  bald 
man.'     Yet  these  were  prisoners  committed,  not  for 


Till,   i    E8A  as.  89 

punishment,  but  trial.  Nor,  had  it  heen  otherwise, 
were  the  charges  against  them  equal,  but  running 
through  every  gradation  of  guilt.  But  the  elogia,  or 
records  of  their  commitment,  he  would  not  so  much  as 
look  at.  With  such  inordinate  capacities  for  cruelty, 
we  cannot  wonder  that  he  should  in  his  common  con- 
versation have  deplored  the  tameness  and  insipidity  of 
his  own  times  and  reign,  as  likely  to  be  marked  by  no 
wide-spreading  calamity.  '  Augustus,'  said  he,  '  was 
happy ;  for  in  his  reign  occurred  the  slaughter  of 
Varus  and  his  legions.  Tiberius  was  happy  ;  for  in  his 
occurred  that  glorious  fall  of  the  great  amphitheatre 
at  Fidenoe.  But  for  me  —  alas  !  alas  ! '  And  then  he 
would  pray  earnestly  for  fire  or  slaughter  —  pestilence 
or  famine.  Famine  indeed  was  to  some  extent  in  his 
own  power  ;  and  accordingly,  as  far  as  his  courage 
would  carry  him,  he  did  occasionally  try  that  mode  of 
tragedy  upon  the  people  of  Rome,  by  shutting  up  the 
public  granaries  against  them.  As  he  blended  his 
mirth  and  a  truculent  sense  of  the  humorous  with  his 
cruelties,  we  cannot  wonder  that  he  shoidd  soon  blend 
his  cruelties  with  his  ordinary  festivities,  and  that  his 
daily  banquets  would  soon  become  insipid  without  them. 
Hence  he  required  a  daily  supply  of  executions  in  his 
own  halls  and  banqueting  rooms  ;  nor  was  a  dinner 
held  to  be  complete  without  such  a  dessert.  Artists 
were  sought  out  who  had  dexterity  and  strength  enough 
to  do  what  Lucan  somewhere  calls  ensrm  rotarr.  that 
8 


90  THE    CJ.SAHS. 

is,  to  cut  off  a  human  head  -with  one  whirl  of  the 
sword.  Even  this  became  insipid,  as  wanting  one 
main  element  of  misery  to  the  sufferer,  and  an  indis- 
pensable condiment  to  the  jaded  palate  of  the  con- 
noisseur, viz.,  a  lingering  duration.  As  a  pleasant 
variety,  therefore,  the  tormentors  were  introduced  with 
their  various  instruments  of  torture  ;  and  many  a 
dismal  tragedy  in  that  mode  of  human  suffering  was 
conducted  in  the  sacred  presence  during  the  emperor's 
hours  of  amiable  relaxation. 

The  result  of  these  horrid  indulgences  was  exactly 
what  we  might  suppose,  that  even  such  scenes  ceased 
to  irritate  the  languid  appetite,  and  yet  that  without 
them  life  was  not  endurable.  Jaded  and  exhausted  as 
the  sense  of  pleasure  had  become  in  Caligula,  still  it 
could  be  roused  into  any  activity  by  nothing  short  of 
these  murderous  luxuries.  Hence,  it  seems,  that  he 
was  continually  tampering  and  dallying  with  the 
thought  of  murder  ;  and  like  the  old  Parisian  jeweller 
Cardillac,  in  Louis  XIV.'s  time,  who  was  stung  with 
a  perpetual  lust  for  murdering  the  possessors  of  fine 
diamonds  —  not  so  much  for  the  value  of  the  prize  (of 
which  he  never  hoped  to  make  any  use),  as  from  an 
unconquerable  desire  of  precipitating  himself  into  the 
difficulties  and  hazards  of  the  murder,  —  Caligula 
never  failed  to  experience  (and  sometimes  even  to 
acknowledge)  a  secret  temptation  to  any  murder  which 
seemed  either  more  than  usually  abominable,  or  more 


THE    CJESAH8.  91 

than  usually  difficult.  Thus,  when  the  two  consuls 
were  seated  at  his  table,  he  burst  out  into  sudden  and 
profuse  laughter  ;  and  upon  their  courteously  requi 
ing  to  know  what  witty  and  admirable  conceit  might 
be  the  occasion  of  the  imperial  mirth,  he  frankly 
owned  to  them,  and  doubtless  he  did  not  improve  their 
appetites  by  this  confession,  that  in  fact  he  was  laugh- 
ing, and  that  he  could  not  but  laugh,  (and  then  the 
monster  laughed  immoderately  again,)  at  the  pleasant 
thought  of  seeing  them  both  headless,  and  that  with  so 
little  trouble  to  himself,  [uno  suo  uuto,)  he  could  have 
both  their  throats  cut.  No  doubt  he  was  continually 
balancing  the  arguments  for  and  against  such  little 
escapades  ;  nor  had  any  person  a  reason  for  security 
in  the  extraordinary  obligations,  whether  of  hospitality 
or  of  religious  vows,  which  seemed  to  lay  him  under 
some  peculiar  restraints  in  that  case  above  all  others  ; 
for  such  circumstances  of  peculiarity,  by  which  the 
murder  would  be  stamped  with  unusual  atrocity,  were 
but  the  more  likely  to  make  its  fascinations  irresistible. 
Hence  he  dallied  with  the  thoughts  of  murdering  her 
whom  he  loved  best,  and  indeed  exclusively  —  his  wife 
Ciesonia  ;  and  whilst  fondling  her,  and  toying  playfully 
with  her  polished  throat,  he  was  distracted  (as  he  half 
insinuated  to  her)  between  the  desire  of  caressing  it, 
which  might  be  often  repeated,  and  that  of  cutting  it, 
which  could  be  gratified  but  once. 

Nero  (for  as    to  Claudius,  he   came  too  late  to  the 


92  THE    C.ESARS. 

throne  to  indulge  any  propensities  of  this  nature  with 
so  little  discretion)  was  but  a  variety  of  the  same 
species.  He  also  was  an  amateur,  and  an  enthusiastic 
amateur  of  murder.  But  as  this  taste,  in  the  most 
ingenious  hands,  is  limited  and  monotonous  in  its  modes 
of  manifestation,  it  would  be  tedious  to  run  through  the 
long  Suetonian  roll-call  of  his  peccadilloes  in  this  way. 
One  only  we  shall  cite,  to  illustrate  the  amorous  delight 
with  which  he  pursued  any  murder  which  happened  to 
be  seasoned  highly  to  his  taste  by  enormous  atrocity, 
and  by  almost  unconquerable  difficulty.  It  would 
really  be  pleasant,  were  it  not  for  the  revolting  consid- 
eration of  the  persons  concerned,  and  their  relation  to 
each  other,  to  watch  the  tortuous  pursuit  of  the  hunter, 
and  the  doubles  of  the  game,  in  this  obstinate  chase. 
For  certain  reasons  of  state,  as  Nero  attempted  to 
persuade  himself,  but  in  reality  because  no  other  crime 
had  the  same  attractions  of  unnatural  horror  about  it, 
he  resolved  to  murder  his  mother  Agrippina.  This 
being  settled,  the  next  thing  was  to  arrange  the  mode 
and  the  tools.  Naturally  enough,  according  to  the 
custom  then  prevalent  in  Rome,  he  first  attempted  the 
thing  by  poison.  The  poison  failed  ;  for  Agrippina, 
anticipating  tricks  of  this  kind,  had  armed  her  consti- 
tution against  them,  like  Mithridates  ;  and  daily  took 
potent  antidotes  and  prophylactics.  Or  else  (which  is 
more  probable)  the  emperor's  agent  in  such  purposes, 
fearing  his  sudden  repentance    and   remorse    on    first 


THE    CAESARS.  93 

hearing  of  his  mother's  death,  or  possibly  even  witness- 
ing her  agonies,  had  composed  a  poison  of  inferior 
strength.  This  had  certainly  occurred  in  the  ease  of 
Britannicus,  who  had  thrown  off  with  ease  the  first 
dose  administered  to  him  by  Nero.  Upon  which  he 
had  summoned  to  his  presence  the  woman  employed 
in  the  affair,  and  compelling  her  by  threats  to  mingle  a 
more  powerful  potion  in  his  own  presence,  had  tried  it 
successively  vipon  different  animals,  until  he  was  satis- 
fied with  its  effects  ;  after  which,  immediately  inviting 
Britannicus  to  a  banquet,  he  had  finally  dispatched 
him.  On  Agrippina,  however,  no  changes  in  the 
poison,  whether  of  kind  or  strength,  had  any  effect : 
so  that,  after  various  trials,  this  mode  of  murder  was 
abandoned,  and  the  emperor  addressed  himself  to  other 
plans.  The  first  of  these  was  some  curious  mechanical 
device,  by  which  a  false  ceiling  was  to  have  been  sus- 
pended by  bolts  above  her  bed  ;  and  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  the  bolt  being  suddenly  drawn,  a  vast  weight 
would  have  descended  with  a  ruinous  destruction  to  all 
below.  This  scheme,  however,  taking  air  from  the 
indiscretion  of  some  amongst  the  accomplices,  reached 
the  cars  of  Agrippina  :  upon  which  the  old  lady  looked 
about  her  too  sharply  to  leave  much  hope  in  that 
scheme  :  so  that  also  was  abandoned.  Next,  he  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  an  artificial  ship,  which,  at  the  touch 
of  a  few  springs,  might  fall  to  pieces  in  deep  water. 
Such  a  ship  was   prepared,  and  stationed   at   a   suitable 


94  THE    CESARS. 

point.  But  the  main  difficulty  remained,  which  was  to 
persuade  the  old  lady  to  go  on  hoard.  Not  that  she 
knew  in  this  case  who  had  hcen  the  ship-builder,  for 
that  would  have  ruined  all ;  but  it  seems  that  she  took 
it  ill  to  he  hunted  in  this  murderous  spirit  ;  and  was 
out  of  humor  with  her  son  ;  besides,  that  any  proposal 
coming  from  him,  though  previously  indifferent  to  her, 
would  have  instantly  become  suspected.  To  meet  this 
difficulty  a  sort  of  reconciliation  was  proposed,  and  a 
very  affectionate  message  sent,  which  had  the  effect  of 
throwing  Agrippina  off  her  guard,  and  seduced  her  to 
Baioe  for  the  purpose  of  joining  the  emperor's  party  at 
a  great  banquet  held  in  commemoration  of  a  solemn 
festival.  She  came  by  water  in  a  sort  of  light  frigate, 
and  was  to  return  in  the  same  way.  Meantime  Nero 
tampered  with  the  commander  of  her  vessel,  and  pre- 
vailed upon  him  to  wreck  it.  What  was  to  be  done  ? 
The  great  lady  was  anxious  to  return  to  Rome,  and  no 
proper  conveyance  was  at  hand.  Suddenly  it  was 
suggested,  as  if  by  chance,  that  a  ship  of  the  empe- 
ror's, new  and  properly  equipped,  was  moored  at  a 
neighboring  station.  This  was  readily  accepted  by 
Agrippina  :  the  emperor  accompanied  her  to  the  place 
of  embarkation,  took  a  most  tender  leave  of  her,  and 
saw  her  set  sail.  It  was  necessary  that  the  vessel 
should  get  into  deep  water  before  the  experiment  could 
be  made  ;  and  with  the  utmost  agitation  this  pious  son 
awaited   news    of  the  result.     Suddenly  a  messenger 


i  ii  i    i  xsa  as.  95 

rushed  breathless  into  his  presence,  and  horrified  him 
bv  the  joyful  information  that  his  august  mother  had 
met  with  an  alarming  accident  ;  but,  by  the  blessing  of 
Heaven,  had  escaped  safe  and  sound,  and  was  now  on 
her  road  to  mingle  congratulations  with  her  affectionate 
son.  The  ship,  it  seems,  had  done  its  office  ;  the 
mechanism  had  played  admirably  ;  but  who  can  pro- 
vide for  everything  ?  The  old  lady,  it  turned  out, 
could  swim  like  a  duck  ;  and  the  whole  result  had  been 
to  refresh  her  with  a  little  sea-bathing.  Here  was 
worshipful  intelligence.  Could  any  man's  temper  be 
expected  to  stand  such  continued  sieges  ?  Money,  and 
trouble,  and  infinite  contrivance,  wasted  upon  one  old 
woman,  who  absolutely  would  not,  upon  any  terms,  be 
murdered  !  Provoking  it  certainly  was  ;  .and  of  a  man 
like  Nero  it  could  not  be  expected  that  he  should  any 
longer  dissemble  his  disgust,  or  put  up  with  such 
repeated  affronts.  He  rushed  upon  his  simple  con- 
gratulating friend,  swore  that  he  had  come  to  murder 
him,  and  as  nobody  could  have  suborned  him  but 
Agrippina,  he  ordered  her  off  to  instant  execution. 
And,  unquestionably,  if  people  will  not  be  murdered 
quietly  and  in  a  civil  way,  they  must  expect  that  such 
forbearance  is  not  to  continue  for  ever  ;  and  obviously 
have  themselves  only  to  blame  for  any  harshness  or 
violence  which  they  may  have  rendered  necessary. 

It  is  singular,    and  shocking  at  the  same  time,  to 
mention,    that,    for  this   atrocity.    Nero    did    absolutely 


96  THE     C^SARS. 

receive  solemn  congratulations  from  all  orders  of  men. 
With    such  evidences  of  base  servility  in  the  public 
mind,  and  of  the  utter  corruption  which  they  had  sus- 
tained in  their  elementary  feelings,  it  is  the  less  aston- 
ishing that  he  should  have  made    other    experiments 
upon  the  public  patience,  which  seem  expressly    de- 
signed to   try  how  much  it  would  support.      Whether 
he  were  really  the  author  of  the  desolating  fire  which 
consumed  Rome  for  six  days  15  and  seven  nights,  and 
drove  the  mass  of  the  people  into  the  tombs  and  sep- 
ulchres for  shelter,   is  yet    a   matter  of  some    doubt. 
But  one  great  presumption  against  it,  founded  on  its 
desperate  imprudence,  as  attacking  the  people  in  their 
primary  comforts,    is    considerably  weakened    by  the 
enormous  servility  of  the   Romans   in   the    case   just 
stated  :   they  who  could  volunteer  congratulations  to  a 
son   for    butchering   his  mother,  (no  matter  on  what 
pretended  suspicions,)  might  reasonably  be  supposed 
incapable    of  any  resistance   which    required  courage 
even  in  a  case    of   self-defence,    or  of  just   revenge. 
The  direct  reasons,  however,   for  implicating   him   in 
this  affair,  seem  at  present  insufficient.     He  was  dis- 
pleased, it  seems,  with  the  irregularity  and  unsightli- 
ness  of  the  antique  buildings,  and  also  with  the  streets, 
as    too    narrow    and    winding,    (angustiis    Jlcxurisque 
vicorum.)     But  in  this  he  did  but  express  what  was  no 
doubt  the  common  judgment  of  all  his  contemporaries, 
who  had  seen  the  beautiful  cities  of  Greece  and  Asia 


l  SS    i.i  8AB8.  97 

Minor.  The  Rome  of  that  time  was  in  many  parts 
built  of  wood;  and  there  is  much  probability  that  it 
must  ha  o  a  picturesque  city,  and  in  parts  almost 

grotesque.  But  it  is  remarkable,  and  a  fact  which  we 
have  nowhere  seen  noticed,  that  the  ancients,  whether 
Greeks  or  Romans,  had  no  eye  for  the  picturesque  ; 
nay,  that  it  was  a  .sense  utterly  unawakened  amongst 
them  ;  and  that  the  very  eonccption  of  the  picturesque, 
as  of  a  thing  distinct  from  the  beautiful,  is  not  once 
alluded  to  through  the  whole  course  of  ancient  lite- 
rature, nor  would  it  have  been  intelligible  to  any 
ancient  critic  ;  so  that,  whatever  attraction  for  the  eye 
might  exist  in  the  Rome  of  that  day,  there  is  little 
doubt  that  it  was  of  a  kind  to  be  felt  only  by  modern 
spectators.  Mere  dissatisfaction  with  its  external  ap- 
pearance, which  must  have  been  a  pretty  general 
sentiment,  argued,  therefore,  no  necessary  purpose  of 
roying  it.  Certainly  it  would  be  weightier  ground 
of  suspicion,  if  it  were  really  true  that  some  of  his 
ats  were  detected  on  the  premises  of  different 
.tors  in  the  act  of  applying  combustibles  to  their 
mansions.  But  this  story  wears  a  very  fabulous  air. 
For  wii  the  private  dwellings  of  great  men, 

where  any  intruder  was  sure  of  attracting  notice,  when 
the  same  effect  and  with  the  same  deadly  results, 
mighl  have  been  attained  quietly  and  secretly  in  so 
many  of  the  humble  Roman  ccenacula  ? 

The   great   los.s   on   this   memorable  occasion   was  in 
ft 


98  THE    CESARS. 

the  heraldic  and  ancestral  honors  of  the  city.     His- 
toric Rome  then  went  to  wreck   for   ever.     Then  per- 
ished   the    domus  priscorum    ducum    hostilibus    adhuc 
spoliis  adornatce  ;  the  '  rostral '  palace  ;  the  mansion  of 
the  Pompeys ;   the  Blenheims  and  the   Strathfieldsays 
of  the  Scipios,  the  Marcelli,  the  Panlli,  and  the  Csesars  ; 
then    perished  the   aged   trophies   from  Carthage  and 
from   Gaul  ;   and,  in  short,  as  the  historian  sums  up 
the  lamentable    desolation,   '  quidquid  visendum  atque 
memorabih    ex  antiquitate  duraverat.'     And    this   of 
itself  might  lead  one   to   suspect  the  emperor's  hand 
as  the  original  agent ;  for  by  no  one  act  was  it  possible 
so  entirely  and  so  suddenly  to  wean  the  people  from 
their  old  republican  recollections,  and  in  one  week  to 
obliterate  the  memorials   of  their  popular  forces,  and 
the  trophies  of  many  ages.     The  old  people  of  Rome 
were  gone  ;  their  characteristic  dress  even  was  gone ; 
for  already  in  the  time  of  Augustus  they  had  laid  aside 
the    toga,   and    assumed    the     cheaper    and     scantier 
poznula,  so  that  the  eye  sought  in  vain  for  Virgil's 
'  Ronianus  rerum  dominos  gentemque  togatam."1 
Why  then,    after    all    the    constituents    of   Roman 
grandeur  had    passed    away,    should    their   historical 
trophies    survive,    recalling    to    them    the    scenes    of 
departed   heroism,    in    which    they   had    no    personal 
property,  and  suggesting  to   them  vain  hopes,  which 
for    them    were    never   to    be    other    than   chimeras  ? 
Even  in  that  sense,  therefore,  and  as  a  great  deposi- 


1  11  I.    C<£SA.B8.  99 

tory  of  heart-stirring  historical  remembrances,  Romo 
was  profitably  destroyed  ;  and  in  any  otber  sense, 
wbether  for  health  or  for  the  conveniences  of  polished 
life,  or  for  architectural  magnificence,  there  never 
was  a  doubt  that  the  Roman  people  gained  infinitely 
by  this  conflagration.  For,  like  London,  it  arose  from 
its  ashes  with  a  splendor  proportioned  to  its  vast  ex- 
pansion of  wealth  and  population  ;  and  marhlc  took  the 
place  of  wood.  For  the  moment,  however,  this  event 
must  have  been  felt  by  the  people  as  an  overwhelming 
calamity.  And  it  serves  to  illustrate  the  passive  en- 
durance and  timidity  of  the  popular  temper,  and  to 
what  extent  it  might  be  provoked  with  impunity,  that 
in  this  state  of  general  irritation  and  effervescence, 
Nero  absolutely  forbade  them  to  meddle  with  the 
ruins  of  their  own  dwellings  —  taking  that  charge  upon 
himself,  with  a  view  to  the  vast  wealth  which  he  anti- 
cipated from  sifting  the  rubbish.  And,  as  if  that  mode 
of  plunder  were  not  sufficient,  he  exacted  compulsory 
contributions  to  the  rebuilding  of  the  city  so  indis- 
criminately, as  to  press  heavily  npon  all  men's  finan- 
:  and  thus,  in  the  public  account  which  universally 
imputed  the  fire  to  him,  he  was  viewed  as  a  twofold 
robber,  who  sought  to  heal  one  calamity  by  the  inflic- 
tion of  another  and  a  greater. 

The  monotony  of  wickedness  and  outrage  becomes 
at  length  fatiguing  to  the  coarsest  and  most  callous 
senses  ;   and  the  historian,  even,  who  caters  professedly 


100  THE    C^SARS. 

for  the  taste  which  feeds  upon  the  monstrous  and  the 
hyperbolical,  is  glad  at  length  to  escape  from  the  long 
evolution  of  his  insane  atrocities,  to  the  striking  and 
truly  scenical  catastrophe  of  retribution  which  overtook 
them,  and  avenged  the  wrongs  of  an  insulted  world. 
Perhaps  history  contains  no  more  impressive  scenes 
than  those  in  which  the  justice  of  Providence  at  length 
arrested  the  monstrous  career  of  Nero. 

It  was  at  Naples,  and  by  a  remarkable  fatality,  on 
the  very  anniversary  of  his  mother's  murder,  that  he 
received  the  first  intelligence   of  the   revolt  in   Gaul 
under  the  Propraetor  Vindex.     This  news  for  about  a 
week  he  treated  with  levity  ;  and,  like  Henry  VII.  of 
England,  who  was  nettled,  not  so  much  at  being  pro- 
claimed a   rebel,  as  because  he  was  described  under 
the  slighting  denomination  of  '  one  Henry  Tidder  or 
Tudor,'  he  complained  bitterly  that  Vindex  had  men- 
tioned him  by  his   family  name  of  iEnobarbus,  rather 
than  his  assumed  one  of  Nero.    But  much  more  keenly 
he  resented  the  insulting  description  of  himself  as  a 
'  miserable  harper,'  appealing  to  all  about  him  whether 
they  had  ever  known  a  better,  and   offering  to  stake 
the  truth  of  all  the  other  charges  against  himself  upon 
the  accuracy  of  this  in  particular.     So   little  even  in 
this  instance  was  be  alive  to  the  true    point  of   the 
insult ;    not  thinking  it   any  disgrace   that  a    Roman 
emperor  should  be  chiefly  known  to  the  world  in  the 
character  of  a  harper,  but  only  if  he  should  happen 


Tin;   Cfi8AB8.  101 

to  be  a  bad  one.  Even  in  those  days,  however,  im- 
perfect as  were  the  means  of  travelling,  rebellion 
moved  somewhat  too  rapidly  to  allow  any  long  inter- 
val of  security  so  light-minded  as  this.  One  courier 
followed  upon  the  heels  of  another,  until  he  felt  the 
necessity  for  leaving  Naples ;  and  he  returned  to 
Rome,  as  the  historian  says,  prcelrepidus ;  by  which 
word,  however,  according  to  its  genuine  classical 
acceptation,  we  apprehend  is  not  meant  that  he  was 
highly  alarmed,  but  only  that  he  was  in  a  great  hurry. 
That  he  was  not  yet  under  any  real  alarm  (for  he 
trusted  in  certain  prophecies,  which,  like  those  made 
to  the  Scottish  tyrant  '  kept  the  promise  to  the  ear, 
but  broke  it  to  the  sense,')  is  pretty  evident  from  his 
conduct  on  reaching  the  capitol.  For,  without  any 
appeal  to  the  senate  or  the  people,  but  sending  out  a 
few  summonses  to  some  men  of  rank,  he  held  a  hasty 
council,  which  he  speedily  dismissed,  and  occupied 
the  rest  of  the  day  with  experiments  on  certain  musi- 
cal instruments  of  recent  invention,  in  which  the 
keys  were  moved  by  hydraulic  contrivances.  He  had 
come  to  Rome,  it  appeared,  merely  from  a  sense  of 
decorum. 

Suddenly,  however,  arrived  news,  which  fell  upon 
him  with  the  force  of  a  thunderbolt,  that  the  revolt 
had  extended  to  the  Spanish  provinces,  and  was  head- 
ed by  Galba.  He  fainted  upon  hearing  this ;  and 
falling  to  the  ground,  lay  for  a  long   time  lifeless,  as 


102  THE    CJESXUS. 

it  seemed,  and  speechless.  Upon  coming  to  himself 
again,  he  tore  his  robe,  struck  his  forehead,  and  ex- 
claimed aloud  —  that  for  him  all  was  over.  In  this 
agony  of  mind,  it  strikes  across  the  utter  darkness  of 
the  scene  with  the  sense  of  a  sudden  and  cheering 
flash,  recalling  to  us  the  possible  goodness  and  fidelity 
of  human  nature  —  when  we  read  that  one  humble 
creature  adhered  to  him,  and,  according  to  her  slender 
means,  gave  him  consolation  during  these  trying  mo- 
ments ;  this  was  the  woman  who  had  tended  his  infant 
years  ;  and  she  now  recalled  to  his  remembrance  such 
instances  of  former  princes  in  adversity,  as  appeared 
fitted  to  sustain  his  drooping  spirits.  It  seems,  how- 
ever, that,  according  to  the  general  course  of  violent 
emotions,  the  rebound  of  high  sjnrits  was  in  proportion 
to  his  first  despondency.  He  omitted  nothing  of  his 
usual  luxury  or  self-indulgence,  and  he  even  found 
spirits  for  going  incognito  to  the  theatre,  where  he  took 
sufficient  interest  in  the  public  performances,  to  send 
a  message  to  a  favorite  actor.  At  times,  even  in  this 
hopeless  situation,  his  native  ferocity  returned  upon 
him,  and  he  was  believed  to  have  framed  plans  for 
removing  all  his  enemies  at  once  —  the  leaders  of  the 
rebellion,  by  appointing  successors  to  their  offices, 
and  secretly  sending  assassins  to  dispatch  their  per- 
sons ;  the  senate,  by  poison  at  a  great  banquet ;  the 
Gaulish  provinces,  by  delivering  them  up  for  pillage 
to   the   army ;    the  city,   by   again   setting   it   on   fire, 


THE    CXSABS.  103 

whilst,  at  the  same  time,  a  vast  number  of  wild  leasts 
was  to  have  been  turned  loose  upon  the  unarmed 
populace  —  for  the  double  purpose  of  destroying  them, 
and  of  distracting  their  attention  from  the  fire.  But, 
as  the  mood  of  his  frenzy  changed,  these  sanguinary 
schemes  were  abandoned,  (not,  however,  under  any 
feelings  of  remorse,  but  from  mere  despair  of  effecting 
them,)  and  on  the  same  day,  hut  after  a  luxurious  din- 
ner, the  imperial  monster  grew  bland  and  pathetic  in 
his  ideas  ;  he  would  proceed  to  the  rebellious  army  ; 
he  would  present  himself  unarmed  to  their  view  ;  and 
would  recall  them  to  their  duty  by  the  mere  spectacle 
of  his  tears.  Upon  the  pathos  with  which  he  would 
wit})  he  was  resolved  to  rely  entirely.  And  having 
received  the  guilty  to  his  mercy  without  distinction, 
upon  the  following  day  he  would  unite  his  joy  with 
their  joy,  and  would  chant  hymns  of  victory  {epinicia) 

—  '  which  by  the  way,'  said  he,  suddenly,  breaking 
off  to  his  favorite  pursuits,  '  it  is  necessary  that  I 
should  immediately  compose.'  This  caprice  vanished 
like  the  rest  ;  and  he  made  an  effort  to  enlist  the 
slaves  and  citizens  into  his  service,  and  to  raise  by 
extortion  a  large  military  chest.  But  in  the  midst  of 
these  vascillating  purposes  fresh  tidings  surprised  him 

—  other  armies  had  revolted,  and  the  rebellion  was 
spreading  contagiously.  This  consummation  of  his 
alarms  reached  him  at  dinner  ;  and  the  expressions  of 
his  angry  fears  took  even  a  scenical  air ;   he   tore   the 


104  THE    CiESATtS. 

dispatches,  upset  the  table,  and  dashed  to  pieces  upon 
the  ground  two  crystal  beakers  —  which  had  a  high 
value  as  works  of  art,  even  in  the  Aurea  Domus,  from 
the  sculptures  which  adorned  them. 

He  now  prepared  for  flight ;  and  sending  forward 
commissioners  to  prepare  the  fleet  at  Ostia  for  his 
reception,  he  tampered  with  such  officers  of  the  army 
as  were  at  hand,  to  prevail  upon  them  to  accompany 
his  retreat.  But  all  showed  themselves  indisposed  to 
such  schemes,  and  some  flatly  refused.  Upon  which 
he  turned  to  other  counsels ;  sometimes  meditating  a 
flight  to  the  King  of  Parthia,  or  even  to  throw  himself 
on  the  mercy  of  Galba ;  sometimes  inclining  rather 
to  the  plan  of  venturing  into  the  forum  in  mourning 
apparel,  begging  pardon  for  his  past  offences,  and,  as 
a  last  resource,  entreating  that  he  might  receive  the 
appointment  of  Egyptian  prefect.  This  plan,  however, 
he  hesitated  to  adopt,  from  some  apprehension  that 
he  should  be  torn  to  pieces  in  his  road  to  the  forum ; 
and,  at  all  events,  he  concluded  to  postpone  it  to  the 
following  day.  Meantime  events  were  now  hurrying 
to  their  catastrophe,  which  for  ever  anticipated  that 
intention.  His  hours  were  numbered,  and  the  closing 
scene  was  at  hand. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  he  was  aroused  from 
slumber  with  the  intelligence  that  the  military  guard, 
who  did  duty  at  the  palace,  had  all  quitted  their  posts. 
Upon  this  the  unhappy  prince  leaped  from  his  couch, 


Tin;   0£3ABS.  105 

never  again  to  taste  the  luxury  of  sleep,  and  dispatched 

messengers  to  liis  friends.  Xo  answers  were  returned  ; 
and  upon  that  he  went  personally  with  a  small  retinue 
to  their  hotels.  Hut  he  found  their  doors  everywhere 
closed;  and  all  his  importunities  could  not  avail  to 
extort  an  answer.  Sadly  and  .slowly  he  returned  to 
his  own  bedchamber  ;  but  there  again  he  found  fresh 
instances  of  desertion,  which  had  occurred  during  his 
short  absence ;  the  pages  of  his  bedchamber  had  fled, 
carrying  with  them  the  coverlids  of  trie  imperial  bed, 
which  were  probably  inwrought  with  gold,  and  even  a 
golden  box,  in  which  Nero  had  on  the  preceding  day 
deposited  poison  prepared  against  the  last  extremity. 
Wounded  to  the  heart  by  this  general  desertion,  and 
perhaps  by  some  special  case  of  ingratitude,  such  as 
would  probably  enough  be  signalized  in  the  flight  of 
his  personal  favorites,  he  called  for  a  gladiator  of  the 
household  to  come  and  dispatch  him.  But  none  ap- 
pearing—  'What!'  said  he,  'have  I  neither  friend  nor 
foe? '  I  so  saying,  he  ran  towards  the  Tiber,  with 

the  purpose  of  drowning  himself.  But  that  paroxysm, 
like  all  the  rest,  proved  transient;  and  he  expressed  a 
wish  for  some  hiding-place,  or  momentary  asylum, 
in  which  he  might  collect  his  unsettled  spirits,  and 
fortify  his  wandering  resolution.  Such  a  retreat  was 
offered  him  by  bis  libertus  Phaon,  in  his  own  rural 
villa,  about  four  miles  distant  from  Rome.  The  otter 
was  accepted;    and  the  emperor,  without  further  pre- 


106  THE    C^SARS. 

paration  than  that  of  throwing  over  his  person  a  short 
mantle  of  a  dusky  hue,  and  enveloping  his  head  and 
face  in  a  handkerchief,  mounted  his  horse,  and  left 
Rome  with  four  attendants.  It  was  still  night,  but 
probably  verging  towards  the  early  dawn;  and  even 
at  that  hour  the  imperial  party  met  some  travellers 
on  their  way  to  Rome  (coming  up  no  doubt,!6  on  law 
business)  —  who  said,  as  they  passed,  '  These  men  are 
certainly  in  chase  of  Nero.'  Two  other  incidents,  of 
an  interesting  nature,  arc  recorded  of  this  short  but 
memorable  ride :  at  one  point  of  the  road  the  shouts 
of  the  soldiery  assailed  their  ears  from  the  neighbor- 
ing encampment  of  Galba.  They  were  probably  then 
getting  under  arms  for  their  final  march  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  palace.  At  another  point,  an  accident 
occurred  of  a  more  unfortunate  kind,  but  so  natural 
and  so  well  circumstantiated,  that  it  serves  to  verify 
the  whole  narrative ;  a  dead  body  was  lying  on  the 
road,  at  which  the  emperor's  horse  started  so  violently 
as  nearly  to  dismount  his  rider,  and  under  the  diffi- 
culty of  the  moment  compelled  him  to  withdraw  the 
hand  which  held  up  the  handkerchief,  and  suddenly  ta 
expose  his  features.  Precisely  at  this  critical  moment 
it  happened  that  an  old  half-pay  officer  passed,  recog- 
nized the  emperor,  and  saluted  him.  Perhaps  it  war. 
with  some  purpose  of  applying  a  remedy  to  this  unfor- 
tunate rencontre,  that  the  party  dismounted  at  a  point 
where  several  roads  met,  and  turned  their  horses  adrift 


THE    OSSA.BS.  107 

to    graze    at    will    amongst    the    furze    and  brambles. 

Their  own  purpose  was,  to  make  their  way  to  the  hack 
of  the  villa;  but,  to  accomplish  that,  it  was  necessary 

that  they  should  first  cross  a  plantation  of  reeds,  from 
the  peculiar  state  of  which  they  found  themselves 
obliged  to  cover  successively  each  space  upon  which 
they  trode  with  parts  of  their  dress,  in  order  to  gain 
any  supportable  footing.  In  this  way,  and  contending 
with  such  hardships,  they  reached  at  length  the  postern 
side  of  the  villa.  Here  wc  must  suppose  that  there 
was  no  regular  ingress;  for,  after  waiting  until  an 
entrance  was  pierced,  it  seems  that  the  emperor  could 
avail  himself  of  it  in  no  more  dignified  posture,  than 
hy  creeping  through  the  hole  on  his  hands  and  feet, 
(quadrupes  per  angustias  receptus.) 

Xow,  then,  after  such  anxiety,  alarm,  and  hardship, 
Nero  had  reached  a  quiet  rural  asylum.  But  for  the 
unfortunate  occurrence  of  his  horse's  alarm  with  the 
passing  of  the  soldier,  he  might  perhaps  have  counted 
on  a  respite  of  a  day  or  two  in  this  nois  (less  and 
ire  abode.  Eat  what  a  habitation  for  him  who 
was  yet  ruler  of  the  world  in  the  eye  of  law,  and 
even  (/'■  facto  was  s  i,  had  any  fatal  accident  befallen 
his  aged  competitor  !  The  room  in  which  (as  the  one 
m  ist  removed  from  notice  and  suspicion)  he  had 
secreted  himself,  was  a  cella,  or  little  sleeping  closet 
of  a  slave,  furnished  only  with  a  miserable  pallet  and 
a  coarse  rug.     Here   lav  th  !  founder  and    possessor  of 


108  THE    CJESAKS. 

the  Golden  House,  too  happy  if  lie  might  hope  for  the 
peaceable  possession  even  of  this  miserable  crypt. 
But  that,  he  knew  too  well,  was  impossible.  A  rival 
pretender  to  the  empire  was  like  the  plague  of  fire  —  as 
dangerous  in  the  shape  of  a  single  spark  left  unextin- 
guished, as  in  that  of  a  prosperous  conflagration.  Bat 
a  few  brief  sands  yet  remained  to  run  in  the  emperor's 
hour-glass ;  much  variety  of  degradation  or  suffering 
seemed  scarcely  within  the  possibilities  of  his  situation, 
or  within  the  compass  of  the  time.  Yet,  as  though 
Providence  had  decreed  that  his  humiliation  should 
pass  through  every  shape,  and  speak  by  every  expression 
which  came  home  to  his  understanding,  or  was  intelli- 
gible to  his  senses,  even  in  these  few  moments  he  was 
attacked  by  hunger  and  thirst.  No  other  bread  could 
be  obtained  (or,  perhaps,  if  the  emperor's  presence 
were  concealed  from  the  household,  it  was  not  safe  to 
raise  suspicion  by  calling  for  better)  than  that  which 
was  ordinarily  given  to  slaves,  coarse,  black,  and,  to  a 
palate  so  luxurious,  doubtless  disgusting.  This  accord- 
ingly he  rejected;  but  a  litle  tepid  water  he  drank. 
After  which,  with  the  haste  of  one  who  fears  that  he 
may  be  prematurely  interrupted,  but  otherwise,  with 
all  the  reluctance  which  we  may  imagine,  and  which 
his  streaming  tears  proclaimed,  he  addressed  himself 
to  the  last  labor  in  which  he  supposed  himself  to  have 
any  interest  on  this  earth  —  that  of  digging  a  grave. 
Measuring  a  space  adjusted  to  the  proportions  of  his 


THE    C2ESA.B.S.  109 

person,  he  inquired  anxiously  for  any  loose  fragments 
of  marble,  such  as  might  suffice  to  line  it.  He  re- 
quested also  to  be  furnished  with  wood  and  water,  as 
the  materials  for  the  last  sepulchral  rites.  And  these 
labors  were  accompanied,  or  continually  interrupted  by 
tears  and  lamentations,  or  by  passionate  ejaculations  on 
the  blindness  of  fortune,  in  suffering  so  divine  an  artist 
to  be  thus  violently  snatched  away,  and  on  the  calami- 
tous fate  of  musical  science,  which  then  stood  on  the 
brink  of  so  dire  an  eclipse.  In  these  moments  he  was 
most  truly  in  an  agony,  according  to  the  original  mean- 
ing of  that  word  ;  for  the  conflict  was  great  between 
two  master  principles  of  his  nature:  on  the  one  hand, 
he  clung  with  the  weakness  of  a  girl  to  life,  even  in 
that  miserable  shape  to  which  it  had  now  sunk  ;  and 
like  the  poor  malefactor,  with  whose  last  struggles 
Prior  has  so  atrociously  amused  himself,  '  he  often  took 
leave,  but  was  loath  to  depart.'  Yet,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  resign  his  life  very  speedily,  seemed  his  only 
chance  for  escaping  the  contumelies,  perhaps  the 
tortures  of  his  enemies  :  and,  above  all  other  consid- 
erations, for  making  sure  of  a  burial,  and  possibly  of 
burial  rites  ;  to  want  which,  in  the  judgment  of  the 
ancients,  was  the  last  consummation  of  misery.  Thus 
occupied,  and  thus  distracted  —  sternly  attracted  to  the 
grave  by  his  creed,  hideously  repelled  by  infirmity  of 
nature  —  he  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  courier 
with  letters  for  the  master  of  the  house;  letters,  and 


110  THE    C^SARS. 

from  Rome  !  What  was  their  import  ?  That  was 
soon  told  —  briefly  that  Nero  was  adjudged  to  be  a 
public  enemy  by  the  senate,  and  that  official  orders 
were  issued  for  apprehending  him,  in  order  that  he 
might  be  brought  to  condign  punishment  according  to 
the  method  of  ancient  precedent.  Ancient  precedent ! 
more  majorem !  And  how  was  that  ?  eagerly  de- 
manded the  emperor.  He  was  answered  —  that  the 
state  criminal  in  such  cases  was  first  stripped  naked, 
then  impaled  as  it  were  between  the  prongs  of  a  pitch- 
fork, and  in  that  condition  scourged  to.  death.  Horror- 
struck  with  this  account,  he  drew  forth  two  poniards, 
or  short  swords,  tried  their  edges,  and  then,  in  utter 
imbecility  of  purpose,  returned  them  to  their  scabbards, 
alleging  that  the  destined  moment  had  not  yet  arrived. 
Then  he  called  upon  Sporus,  the  imfamous  partner  in 
his  former  excesses,  to  commence  the  funeral  anthem. 
Others,  again,  he  besought  to  lead  the  way  in  dying, 
and  to  sustain  him  by  the  spectacle  of  their  example. 
But  this  purpose  also  he  dismissed  in  the  very  moment 
of  utterance ;  and  turning  away  despairingly,  he  apos- 
trophized himself  in  words  reproachful  or  animating, 
now  taxing  his  nature  with  infirmity  of  purpose,  now 
calling  on  himself  by  name,  with  adjurations  to  re- 
member his  dignity,  and  to  act  worthy  of  his  supreme 
station  :  uv  notiru  Niovnt,  cried  he,  ov  nninti  •  v>\<ptiv  Sit  lv 
Totg  roiovrotg  •   aye,   sysiQe  atavroi i.    e.     'Fie,    fie,    then, 

Nero  !  such  a  season  calls  for  perfect  self-possession. 
Up,  then,  and  rouse  thyself  to  action.' 


Till.    :.1.\\KS.  Ill 

Tims,  and  in  similar  efforts  to  master  the  weakness 

of  his  reluctant  nature  —  weakness  which  would  ex- 
tort pity  from  the  severest  minds,  were  it  not  from  the 
odious  connection  which  in  him  it  had  with  cruelty  the 
most  merciless  —  did  this  unhappy  prince,  jam  non 
salutis  spem  sed  exilii  solatium  quarens,  consume  the 
flying  moments,  until  at  length  his  ears  caught  the 
fatal  sounds  or  echoes  from  a  body  of  horsemen  riding 
up  to  the  villa.  These  were  the  officers  charged  with 
his  arrest  ;  and  if  he  should  fall  into  their  hands  alive, 
he  knew  that  his  last  chance  was  over  for  liberating 
himself,  by  a  Roman  death,  from  the  burthen  of  igno- 
minious life,  and  from  a  lingering  torture.  He  paused 
from  his  restless  motions,  listened  attentively,  then 
repeated  a  line  from  Homer  — 

•  /  /mi  u'  vMtv.iodwr  aft (pt  y.iv:iui  Hal  a  fla/./.ti  ' 

(The  resounding  tread  of  swift-footed  horses  rever- 
berates upon  my  cars)  ;  —  then  under  some  momentary 
impulse  of  courage,  gained  perhaps  by  figuring  to  him- 
self the  bloody  populace  rioting  upon  his  mangled 
body,  yet  even  then  needing  the  auxiliary  hand  and 
vicarious  courage  of  his  private  secretary,  the  feeble- 
hearted  prince  stabbed  himself  in  the  throat.  The 
wound,  however,  was  not  such  as  to  cause  instant 
death.  He  was  still  breathing,  and  not  quite  speech- 
less, when  the  centurion  who  commanded  the  party 
entered  the  closet  ;  and  to  this  officer  who  uttered  a 
few  hollow  words  of  encouragement,  he  was  still  able 


112  THE    C.ESARS. 

to  make  a  brief  reply.  But  in  the  very  effort  of 
speaking  he  expired,  and  with  an  expression  of  horror 
impressed  upon  his  stiffened  features,  which  communi- 
cated a  sympathetic  horror  to  all  beholders. 

Such  was  the  too  memorable  tragedy  which  closed 
for  ever  the  brilliant  line  of  the  Julian  family,  and 
translated  the  august  title  of  Caesar  from  its  original 
purpose  as  a  proper  name  to  that  of  an  official  desig- 
nation. It  is  the  most  striking  instance  upon  record 
of  a  dramatic  and  extreme  vengeance  overtaking  ex- 
treme guilt :  for,  as  Nero  had  exhausted  the  utmost 
possibilities  of  crime,  so  it  may  be  affirmed  that  he 
drank  off  the  cup  of  suffering  to  the  very  extremity 
of  what  his  peculiar  nature  allowed.  And  in  no  life 
of  so  short  a  duration,  have  there  ever  been  crowded 
equal  extremities  of  gorgeous  prosperity  and  abject 
infamy.  It  may  be  added,  as  another  striking  illustra- 
tion of  the  rapid  mutability  and  revolutionary  excesses 
which  belonged  to  what  has  been  properly  called  the 
Roman  stratocracy  then  disposing  of  the  world,  that 
Avithin  no  very  great  succession  of  weeks  that  same 
victorious  rebel,  the  Emperor  Galba,  at  whose  feet 
Nero  had  been  self-immolated,  was  laid  a  murdered 
corpse  in  the  same  identical  cell  which  had  witnessed 
the  lingering  agonies  of  his  unhappy  victim.  This 
was  the  act  of  an  emancipated  slave,  anxious,  by  a 
vindictive  insult  to  the  remains  of  one  prince,  to  place 
on   record   his    gratitude   to   another.     '  So   runs   the 


THE    CMBARB.  113 

world  away  ! '     And  in  this  striking  way  is  retribu- 
tion sometimes  dispensed. 

In  the  sixth  Csesar  terminated  the  Julian  line.  The 
three  next  princes  in  the  succession  were  personally 
uninteresting ;  and  with  a  slight  reserve  in  favor  of 
Otho,  whose  motives  for  committing  suicide  (if  truly 
reported)  argue  great  nobility  of  mind,17  were  even 
brutal  in  the  tenor  of  their  lives  and  monstrous ; 
besides  that  the  extreme  brevity  of  their  several  reigns 
(all  three,  taken  conjunctly,  having  held  the  supreme 
power  for  no  more  than  twelve  months  and  twenty 
days)  dismisses  them  from  all  effectual  station  or  right 
to  a  separate  notice  in  the  line  of  Caesars.  Coming 
to  the  tenth  in  the  succession,  Vespasian,  and  his  two 
sons,  Titus  and  Domitian,  who  make  up  the  list  of 
the  twelve  Caesars,  as  they  are  usually  called,  we  find 
matter  for  deeper  political  meditation  and  subjects  of 
curious  research.  But  these  emperors  would  be  more 
properly  classed  with  the  five  who  succeeded  them  — 
Nerva,  Trajan,  Hadrian,  and  the  two  Antonines  ;  after 
whom  comes  the  young  ruffian,  Commodus,  another 
Caligula  or  Nero,  from  whose  short  and  infamous 
reign  Gibbon  takes  up  his  tale  of  the  decline  of  the 
empire.  And  this  classification  would  probably  have 
prevailed,  had  not  the  very  curious  work  of  Suetonius, 
whose  own  life  and  period  of  observation  determined 
the  series  and  cycle  of  his  subjects,  led  to  a  different 
distribution.  But  as  it  is  evident  that,  in  the  suc- 
10 


114  THE    OSSABS. 

cession  of  the  first  twelve  Caesars,  trie  six  latter  have 
no  connection  whatever  by  descent,  collaterally,  or 
otherwise,  with  the  six  first,  it  would  be  a  more 
logical  distribution  to  combine  them  according  to  the 
fortunes  of  the  state  itself,  and  the  succession  of  its 
prosperity  through  the  several  stages  of  splendor, 
declension,  revival,  and  final  decay.  Under  this  ar- 
rangement, the  first  seventeen  would  belong  to  the 
first  stage  :  Commodus  would  open  the  second  ; 
Aurelian  down  to  Constantine  or  Julian  would  fill  the 
third  :  and  Jovian  to  Augustulus  would  bring  up  the 
melancholy  rear.  Meantime  it  will  be  proper,  after 
thus  briefly  throwing  our  eyes  over  the  monstrous 
atrocities  of  the  early  Caesars,  to  spend  a  few  lines  in 
examining  their  origin,  and  the  circumstances  which 
favored  their  growth.  For  a  mere  hunter  after  hidden 
or  forgotten  singularities  ;  a  lover  on  their  own  ac- 
count of  all  strange  perversities  and  freaks  of  nature, 
whether  in  action,  taste,  or  opinion  :  for  a  collector 
and  amateur  of  misgrowths  and  abortions  ;  for  a  Sue- 
tonius, in  short,  it  may  be  quite  enough  to  state  and 
to  arrange  his  cabinet  of  specimens  from  the  marvel- 
lous in  human  nature.  But  certainlv  in  modern  times, 
any  historian,  however  little  affecting  the  praise  of  a 
philosophic  investigator,  would  feel  himself  called 
upon  to  remove  a  little  the  taint  of  the  miraculous 
and  preternatural  which  adheres  to  such  anecdotes, 
by  entering  into  the   psychological  grounds  of  their 


Tin;   CJE3A.B  .  115 

possibility  ;  whether  lying  in  any  peculiarly  vicious 
education,  early  familiarity  with  bad  models,  corrupt- 
ing associations,  or  other  plausible  key  to  effects,  which, 
taken  separately,  and  out  of  their  natural  connection 
with  their  explanatory  causes,  arc  apt  rather  to  startle 
and  revolt  the  feelings  of  sober  thinkers.  Except, 
perhaps,  in  some  chapters  of  Italian  history,  as,  for 
example,  among  the  most  profligate  of  the  Papal 
houses,  and  amongst  some  of  the  Florentine  princes, 
we  find  hardly  any  parallel  to  the  atrocities  of  Calig- 
ula and  Xero  ;  nor  indeed  was  Tiberius  much  (if  at 
all)  behind  them,  though  otherwise  so  wary  and  cau- 
tious in  his  conduct.  The  same  tenor  of  licentiousness 
beyond  the  needs  of  the  individual,  the  same  craving 
after  the  marvellous  and  the  stupendous  in  guilt,  is 
continually  emerging  in  succeeding  emperors  —  in 
Vitcllius,  in  Domitian,  in  Commodus,  in  Caracalla  — 
everywhere,  in  short,  where  it  was  not  overruled  by- 
one  of  two  causes,  cither  by  original  goodness  of 
nature  too  powerful  to  be  mastered  by  ordinary  seduc- 
tions, (and  in  some  cases  removed  from  their  influence 
by  an  early  apprenticeship  to  camps,)  or  by  the  terrors 
of  an  exemplary  ruin  immediately  preceding.  For 
such  a  determinate  tendency  to  the  enormous  and  the 
anomalous,  sufficient  causes  must  exist.  What  were 
they  r 

In  the   first  place,  wc   may  obs  tvc   that  the  people 
of  Rome  in  that  age  were   generally  more    corrupt   by 


116  THE    C^SARS. 

many  degrees  than  has  been  usually  supposed  possi- 
ble. The  effect  of  revolutionary  times,  to  relax  all 
modes  of  moral  obligation,  and  to  unsettle  the  moral 
sense,  has  been  well  and  philosophically  stated  by  Mr. 
Coleridge  ;  but  that  would  hardly  account  for  the  utter 
licentiousness  and  depravity  of  Imperial  Rome.  Look- 
ing back  to  Republican  Rome,  and  considering  the 
state  of  public  morals  but  fifty  years  before  the  em- 
perors, we  can  with  difficulty  believe  that  the  descend- 
ants of  a  people  so  severe  in  their  habits  could  thus 
rapidly  degenerate,  and  that  a  populace,  once  so  hardy 
and  masculine,  should  assume  the  manners  which  we 
might  expect  in  the  debauchees  of  Daphne  (the  in- 
famous suburb  of  Antioch)  or  of  Canopus,  into  which 
settled  the  very  lees  and  dregs  of  the  vicious  Alexan- 
dria. Such  extreme  changes  would  falsify  all  that  we 
know  of  human  nature  ;  we  might,  a  priori,  pronounce 
them  impossible ;  and  in  fact,  upon  searching  history, 
we  find  other  modes  of  solving  the  difficulty.  In 
reality,  the  citizens  of  Rome  were  at  this  time  a  new 
race,  bimight  together  from  every  quarter  of  the  world, 
but  especially  from  Asia.  So  vast  a  proportion  of 
the  ancient  citizens  had  been  cut  off  by  the  sword, 
and  partly  to  conceal  this  waste  of  population,  but 
much  more  by  way  of  cheaply  requiting  services,  or 
of  showing  favor,  or  of  acquiring  influence,  slaves 
had  been  emancipated  in  such  great  multitudes,  and 
afterwards  invested  with   all    the    rights    of  citizens, 


TIIE     CJESARS.  117 

that.  In  a  single  generation,  Rome  became  almost 
transmuted  into  a  baser  metal  ;  the  progeny  of  tl 
whom  the  last  generation  had  purchased  from  the 
slave  merchants.  These  people  derived  their  stock 
chiefly  from  Cappadocia,  Pontus,  &c,  and  the  other 
populous  regions  of  Asia  Minor  ;  and  hence  the  taint 
of  Asiatic  luxury  and  depravity,  which  was  so  con- 
spicuous to  all  the  Romans  of  the  old  republican 
severity.  Juvenal  is  to  be  understood  more  literally 
than  is  sometimes  supposed,  when  he  complains  that 
long  before  his  time  the  Orontes  (that  river  which 
washed  the  infamous  capital  of  Syria)  had  mingled 
its  impure  waters  with  those  of  the  Tiber.  And  a 
little  before  him,  Lucan  speaks  with  mere  historic 
gravity  when  he  says  — 

'  Vivnnt  Galatoeque  Syrique 


Cappadoces,  Gallique,  extremique  orbis  Iberi, 
Avmcnii,  Cilices  :   nam  post  civilia  bclla 
Hie  Populus  Eomanus  erit.' 18 

Probably  in  the  time  of  Xero,  not  one  man  in  six 
was  of  pure  Roman  descent.19  And  the  consequences 
were  suitable.  Scarcely  a  family  has  come  down  to 
our  knowledge  that  could  not  in  one  generation  enu- 
merate a  long  catalogue  of  divorces  within  its  own 
contracted  circle.  Every  man  had  married  a  series 
of  wives  ;  every  woman  a  scries  of  husbands.  Even 
in  the  palace  of  Augustus,  who  wished  to  be  viewed 
as   an   exemplar   or    ideal  model    of   domestic    purity, 


118  THE    C^SAHS. 

every  principal  member  of  his  family  was  tainted  in 
that  way  ;  himself  in  a  manner  and  a  degree  infamous 
even  at  that  time.20  For  the  first  400  years  of  Rome, 
not  one  divorce  had  been  granted  or  asked,  although 
the  statute  which  allowed  of  this  indulgence  had 
always  been  in  force.  But  in  the  age  succeeding  to 
the  civil  wars,  men  and  women  '  married,'  says  one 
author,  '  with  a  view  to  divorce,  and  divorced  in  order 
to  marry.  Many  of  these  changes  happened  within 
the  year,  especially  if  the  lady  had  a  large  fortune, 
which  always  went  with  her  and  procured  her  choice 
of  transient  husbands.'  And,  '  can  one  imagine,' 
asks  the  same  writer,  '  that  the  fair  one  who  changed 
her  husband  every  quarter,  strictly  kept  her  matri- 
monial faith  all  the  three  months  r  '  Thus  the  very 
fountain  of  all  the  '  household  charities  '  and  house- 
hold virtues  was  polluted.  And  after  that  we  need 
little  wonder  at  the  assassinations,  poisonings,  and 
forging  of  wills,  which  then  laid  waste  the  domestic 
life  of  the  Romans. 

2.  A  second  source  of  the  universal  depravity  was 
the  growing  inefficacy  of  the  public  religion  ;  and  this 
arose  from  its  disproportion  and  inadequacy  to  the 
intellectual  advances  of  the  nation.  Religion,  in  its 
very  etymology,  has  been  held  to  imply  a  religatio, 
that  is,  a  reiterated  or  secondary  obligation  of  morals ; 
a  sanction  supplementary  to  that  of  the  conscience. 
Now,  for  a  rude  and  uncultivated  people,  the  Pagan 


TIIK    C.-ES.VTIS.  119 

mythology  might   not   he  too   gross  to  discharge   the 
main  functions  of  a  useful  religion.      So  long  as  the 
understanding  could  submit  to  the  fahles  of  the  Pagan 
creed,  so  long  it  was  possible  that  the  hopes  and  fears 
built  upon  thai  creed  might  he  practically  efficient  on 
men's  lives  and  intentions.      But  when  the  foundation 
gave  way,   the   whole  superstructure  of  necessity  fell 
to  the  ground.      Those  who   were  ohliged  to  reject  the 
ridiculous  legends^  which   invested   the   whole  of  their 
Pantheon,    together   with    the    fahulous    adjudgcrs   of 
future  punishments,  could  not  hut  dismiss  the  punish- 
ments,   which    were,    in    fact,    as    laughable,    and    as 
obviously    the   fictions  of   human    ingenuity,   as  their 
dispensers.      In  short,  the  civilized  part  of  the  world 
in  those    days  lay   in  this    dreadful    condition  ;    their 
intellect  had  far  outgrown  their  religion  ;    the   dispro- 
portions between  the  two  were  at  length  become  mon- 
strous ;  and    as   yet  no  purer  or  more  elevated   faith 
was  prepared  for  their  acceptance.      The  case  was  as 
shocking  as  if,   witli   our    present   intellectual    needs, 
we  should   be  unhappy  enough   to  have  no  creed  on 
which  to  rest  the   burden  of  our  final  hopes  and  fears, 
of  our   moral  obligations,  and  of  our  consolations  in 
misery,  except  the  fairy  mythology  of  our  nurses.     The 
condition  of  a  people  so  situated,  of  a  people  under 
the  calamity  of  having   outgrown  its  religious  faith, 
has  never  been   sufficiently  considered.      It  is  probable 
that  such  a  condition  has  never  existed  before  or  since 


120  THE    CJESAKS. 

that  era  of'  the  world.  The  consequences  to  Rome 
were  —  that  the  reasoning  and  disputatious  part  of 
her  population  took  refuge  from  the  painful  state  of 
doubt  in  Atheism  ;  amongst  the  thoughtless  and  irre- 
flcctive  the  consequences  were  chiefly  felt  in  their 
morals,  which  were  thus  sapped  in  their  foundation. 

3.  A  third  cause,  which  from  the  first  had  exercised 
a  most  baleful  influence  upon  the  arts  and  upon  litera- 
ture in  Rome,  had  by  this  time  matured  its  disastrous 
tendencies  towards  the  extinction  of  the  moral  sensibil- 
ities. This  was  the  circus,  and  the  whole  machinery, 
form  and  substance,  of  the  Circensian  shows.  Why 
had  tragedy  no  existence  as  a  part  of  the  Roman 
literature  ?  Because  —  and  that  was  a  reason  which 
would  have  sufficed  to  stifle  all  the  dramatic  genius 
of  Greece  and  England  —  there  was  too  much  tragedy 
in  the  shape  of  gross  reality,  almost  daily  before  their 
eyes.  The  amphitheatre  extinguished  the  theatre. 
How  was  it  possible  that  the  fine  and  intellectual 
griefs  of  the  drama  should  win  their  way  to  hearts 
seared  and  rendered  callous  by  the  continual  exhibi- 
tion of  scenes  the  most  hideous,  in  which  human 
blood  was  poured  out  like  water,  and  a  human  life 
sacrificed  at  any  moment  either  to  caprice  in  the 
populace,  or  to  a  strife  of  rivalry  between  the  ayes 
and  the  noes,  or  as  the  penalty  for  any  trifling  instance 
of  awkwardness  in  the  performer  himself?  Even  the 
more  innocent  exhibitions,  in    which  brutes  only  were 


THE    C.ESARS.  121 

the  sufferers,  could  not  but  be  mortal  to  all  the  finer 
sensibilities.  Five  thousand  wild  animals,  torn  from 
their  native  abodes  in  the  wilderness  or  forest,  were 
often  turned  out  to  be  hunted,  or  for  mutual  slaughter, 
in  the  course  of  a  single  exhibition  of  this  nature ; 
and  it  sometimes  happened,  (a  fact  which  of  itself 
proclaims  the  course  of  the  public  propensities.)  that 
the  person  at  whose  expense  the  shows  were  exhibited, 
by  way  of  paying  special  court  to  the  people  and 
meriting  their  favor,  in  the  way  most  conspicuously 
open  to  him,  issued  orders  that  all,  without  a  solitary 
exception,  should  be  slaughtered.  He  made  it  known, 
as  the  very  highest  gratification  which  the  case  allowed, 
that  (in  the  language  of  our  modern  auctioneers)  the 
whole,  '  without  reserve,'  should  perish  before  their 
eyes.  Even  such  spectacles  must  have  hardened  the 
heart  and  blunted  the  more  delicate  sensibilities  ;  but 
these  would  soon  cease  to  stimulate  the  pampered 
and  exhausted  sense.  From  the  combats  of  tigers  or 
leopards,  in  which  the  passions  could  only  be  gathered 
indirectly,  and  by  way  of  inference  from  the  motions, 
the  transition  must  have  been  almost  inevitable  to 
those  of  men,  whose  nobler  and  more  varied  passions 
spoke  directly,  and  by  the  intelligible  language  of  the 
eye,  to  human  spectators  ;  and  from  the  frequent  con- 
templation of  these  authorized  murders,  in  which  a 
whole  people,  women01  as  much  as  men,  and  children 

intermingled  with  both,  looked  on  with  leisurely  indif- 
11 


122  THE    C^SARS. 

ference,  with  anxious  expectation,  or  with  rapturous 
delight,  whilst  below  them  were  passing  the  direct 
sufferings  of  humanity,  and  not  seldom  its  dying 
pangs,  it  was  impossible  to  expect  a  result  different 
from  that  which  did  in  fact  take  place,  —  universal 
hardness  of  heart,  obdurate  depravity,  and  a  twofold 
degradation  of  human  nature,  which  acted  simultane- 
ously upon  the  two  pillars  of  morality,  (which  are 
otherwise  not  often  assailed  together,)  of  natural  sen- 
sibility in  the  first  place,  and  in  the  second,  of  consci- 
entious principle. 

4.  But  these  were  circumstances  which  applied  to 
the  whole  population  indiscriminately.  Superadded 
to  these,  in  the  case  of  the  emperor,  and  affecting 
Mm  exclusively,  was  this  prodigious  disadvantage  — 
that  ancient  reverence  for  the  immediate  witnesses 
of  his  actions,  and  for  the  people  and  senate  who 
would  under  other  circumstances  have  exercised  the 
old  functions  of  the  censor,  was,  as  to  the  emperor, 
pretty  nearly  obliterated.  The  very  title  of  imperator, 
from  which  we  have  derived  our  modern  one  of 
emperor,  proclaims  the  nature  of  the  government,  and 
the  tenure  of  that  office.  It  was  purely  a  government 
by  the  sword,  or  permanent  stratocracy,  having  a 
movable  head.  Never  was  there  a  people  who  inquired 
so  impertinently  as  the  Romans  into  the  domestic 
conduct  of  each  private  citizen.  No  rank  escaped 
this  jealous  vigilance  ;  and  private  liberty,  even  in  the 


THE    CiESARS.  123 

most  indifferent  circumstances  of  taste  or  expense, 
was  sacrificed  to  this  inquisitorial  rigor  of  surveillance, 
exercised  on  behalf  of  the  state,  sometimes  by  errone- 
ous patriotism,  too  often  by  malice  in  disguise.  To 
this  spirit  th"  highest  public  officers  were  obliged  to 
bow ;  the  consuls,  not  less  than  others.  And  even 
the  occasional  dictator,  if  by  law  irresponsible,  acted 
nevertheless  as  one  who  knew  that  any  change  which 
depressed  his  party  might  eventually  abrogate  his 
privilege.  For  the  first  time  in  the  person  of  an 
imperator  was  seen  a  supreme  autocrat,  who  had  vir- 
tually and  effectively  all  the  irresponsibility  which  the 
law  assi  »ned,  and  the  origin  of  his  office  presumed. 
Satisfied  to  know  that  he  possessed  such  power,  Au- 
gustus, as  much  from  natural  taste  as  policy,  was  glad 
to  dissemble  it,  and  by  every  means  to  withdraw  it 
from  public  notice.  But  he  had  passed  his  youth  as 
citizen  of  a  republic  ;  and  in  the  state  of  transition  to 
autocracy,  in  his  office  of  triumvir,  had  experimentally 
known  the  perils  of  rivalship,  and  the  pains  of  foreign 
control,  too  feelingly  to  provoke  unnecessarily  any 
sleeping  embers  of  the  republican  spirit.  Tiberius, 
though  familiar  from  his  infancy  with  the  servile 
homage  of  a  court,  was  yet  modified  by  the  popular 
temper  of  Augustus  :  and  he  came  late  to  the  throne. 
Caligula  was  the  first  prince  on  whom  the  entire  effect 
of  his  political  situation  was  allowed  to  operate  ;  and 
the  natural  results  were  seen  —  he  was  the  first  abso- 


124  THE     C.ESARS. 

lute  monster.  He  must  early  have  seen  trie  reali- 
ties of  his  position,  and  from  what  quarter  it  was  that 
any  cloud  could  arise  to  menace  his  security.  To 
the  senate  or  people  any  respect  which  he  might  think 
proper  to  pay,  must  have  heen  imputed  by  all  parties 
to  the  lingering  superstitions  of  custom,  to  involuntary 
habit,  to  court  dissimulation,  or  to  the  decencies  of 
external  form,  and  the  prescriptive  reverence  of  ancient 
names.  But  neither  senate  nor  people  could  enforce 
their  claims,  whatever  they  might  happen  to  be. 
Their  sanction  and  ratifying  vote  might  be  worth 
having,  as  consecrating  what  was  already  secure,  and 
conciliating  the  scruples  of  the  weak  to  the  absolute 
decision  of  the  strong.  But  their  resistance,  as  an 
original  movement,  was  so  wholly  without  hope,  that 
they  were  never  weak  enough  to  threaten  it. 

The  army  was  the  true  successor  to  their  places, 
being  the  ultimate  depository  of  power.  Yet,  as  the 
army  was  necessarily  subdivided,  as  the  shifting  cir- 
cumstances upon  every  frontier  were  continually 
varying  the  strength  of  the  several  divisions  as  to 
numbers  and  state  of  discipline,  one  part  might  be 
balanced  against  the  other  by  an  imperator  standing 
in  the  centre  of  the  whole.  The  rigor  of  the  military 
sacramentum,  or  oath  of  allegiance,  made  it  dangerous 
to  offer  the  first  overtures  to  rebellion  ;  and  the  money, 
which  the  soldiers  were  continually  depositing  in  the 
bank,  placed  at  the  foot  of  their  military  standards,  if 


THE    CiF.SAttS.  125 

sometimes  turned  against  the  emperor,  was  also 
liable  to  be  sequestrated  in  his  favor.  There  were 
then,  in  fact,  two  great  forces  in  the  government 
acting  in  and  by  each  other  —  the  Stratocracy,  and 
the  Autocracy.  Each  needed  the  other  ;  each  stood 
in  awe  of  each.  But,  as  regarded  all  other  forces 
in  the  empire,  constitutional  or  irregular,  popular  or 
senatorial,  neither  had  anything  to  fear.  Under  any 
ordinary  circumstances,  therefore,  considering  the 
hazards  of  a  rebellion,  the  emperor  was  substantially 
liberated  from  all  control.  Vexations  or  outrages 
upon  the  populace  were  not  such  to  the  army.  It 
was  but  rarely  that  the  soldier  participated  in  the 
emotions  of  the  citizen.  And  thus,  being  effectually 
without  check,  the  most  vicious  of  the  Caesars  went 
on  without  fear,  presuming  upon  the  weakness  of  one 
part  of  his  subjects,  and  the  indifference  of  the  other, 
until  he  was  tempted  onwards  to  atrocities,  which 
armed  against  him  the  common  feelings  of  human 
nature,  and  all  mankind,  as  it  were,  rose  in  a  body 
with  one  voice,  and  apparently  with  one  heart,  united 
by  mere  force  of  indignant  sympathy,  to  put  him 
down,  and  'abate'  him  as  a  monster.  Eat,  until  he 
brought  matters  to  this  extremity,  Caesar  had  no  cause 
to  fear.  Xor  was  it  at  all  certain,  in  any  one 
instance,  where  this  exemplary  chastisement  overtook 
him,  that  the  apparent  unanimity  of  the  actors  went 
further  than   the   practical    conclusion    of  'abating' 


126  THE    C.ESARS. 

the  imperial  nuisance,  or  that  their  indignation  had 
settled  upon  the  same  offences.  In  general,  the  army 
measured  the  guilt  by  the  public  scandal,  rather  than 
by  its  moral  atrocity  ;  and  Ctesar  suffered  perhaps  in 
every  case,  not  so  much  because  he  had  violated  his 
duties,  as  because  he  had  dishonored  his  office. 

It  is,  therefore,  in  the  total  absence  of  the  checks 
which  have  almost  universally  existed  to  control  other 
despots,  under  some  indirect  shape,  even  where  none 
was  provided  by  the  laws,  that  we  must  seek  for  the 
main  peculiarity  affecting  the  condition   of  the  Roman 
Caesar,  which   peculiarity  it   was,    superadded    to    the 
other  three,  that  finally  made  those  three  operative  in 
their   fullest    extent.     It    is  in   the  perfection    of   the 
stratocracy    that    we  must  look  for   the    key   to     the 
excesses   of  the   autocrat.     Even   in   the  bloody   des- 
potisms   of    the    Barbary   States,     there    has    always 
existed  in  the  religious  prejudices  of  the  people,  which 
could  not  be  violated   with    safety,  one    check    more 
upon    the    caprices  of  the  despot  than   was  found  at 
Rome.     Upon  the  whole,   therefore,   what   affects  us 
on  the  first  reading  as  a  prodigy  or  anomaly  in  the 
frantic  outrages  of  the  early  Csesars  —  falls  within  the 
natural    bounds   of  intelligible   human   nature,    when 
we  state   the   case    considerately.     Surrounded   by    a 
population  which  had  not  only  gone  through  a  most 
vicious  and  corrupting  discipline,  and  had  been  utterly 
ruined  by  the  license  of  revolutionary  times,  and  the 


THE    i-.ESARS.  127 

bloodiest  proscriptions,  but  bad  even  boon  extensively 
changed  in  its  very  elements,  and  from  the  descend- 
ants of  Romulus  bad  been  transmuted  into  an  Asiatic 
mob: — starting  from  this  point,  and  considering  as 
the  second  feature  of  the  case,  that  this  transfigured 
people,  morally  so  degenerate,  were  carried,  however, 
by  the  progress  of  civilization,  to  a  certain  intellectual 
altitude,  which  the  popular  religion  had  not  strength 
to  ascend  —  but  from  inherent  disproportion  remained 
at  the  base  of  the  general  civilization,  incapable  of 
accompanying  the  other  elements  in  their  advance;  — 
thirdly,  that  this  polished  condition  of  society,  which 
should  naturally  with  the  evils  of  a  luxurious  repose 
have  counted  upon  its  pacific  benefits,  had  yet,  by 
means  of  its  circus  and  its  gladiatorial  contests,  applied 
a  constant  irritation,  and  a  system  of  provocations  to 
the  appetites  for  blood,  such  as  in  all  other  nations  are 
connected  with  the  rudest  stages  of  society,  and  with 
the  most  barbarous  modes  of  warfare,  nor  even  in  such 
circumstances,  without  many  palliatives  wanting  to 
the  spectators  of  the  circus; — combining  these  con- 
siderations, we  have  already  a  key  to  the  enormities 
and  hideous  excesses  of  the  Roman  Impcrator.  The 
hot  blood  which  excites,  and  the  adventurous  courage 
which  accompanies,  the  excesses  of  sanguinary  warfare, 
presuppose  a  condition  of  the  moral  nature  not  to  be 
compared  for  malignity  and  baleful  tendency  to  the 
cool  and  cowardly  spirit  of  amateurship,  in  which  the 


128  THE    C^ESAKS. 

Roman  (perhaps  an  effeminate  Asiatic)  sat  looking 
down  upon  the  bravest  of  men,  (Thracians  or  other 
Europeans,)  mangling  each  other  for  his  recreation. 
"When,  lastly,  from  such  a  population,  and  thus  disci- 
plined from  his  nursery  days,  we  suppose  the  case  of 
one  individual  selected,  privileged,  and  raised  to  a 
conscious  irresponsibility,  except  at  the  bar  of  one 
extra-judicial  tribunal,  not  easily  irritated,  and  noto- 
riously to  be  propitiated  by  other  means  than  those  of 
upright  or  impartial  conduct,  we  lay  together  the 
elements  of  a  situation  too  trying  for  poor  human 
nature,  and  fitted  only  to  the  faculties  of  an  angel  or 
a  demon ;  of  an  angel,  if  we  suppose  him  to  resist  its 
full  temptations  ;  of  a  demon,  if  we  suppose  him  to  use 
its  total  opportunities.  Thus  interpreted  and  solved, 
Caligula  and  Nero  become  ordinary  men. 

But,  finally,  what  if,  after  all,  the  worst  of  the 
Caesars,  and  those  in  particular,  were  entitled  to  the 
benefit  of  a  still  shorter  and  more  conclusive  apology  ? 
What  if,  in  a  true  medical  sense,  they  were  insane? 
It  is  certain  that  a  vein  of  madness  ran  in  the  family ; 
and  anecdotes  are  recorded  of  the  three  worst,  which 
go  far  to  establish  it  as  a  fact,  and  others  which  would 
imply  it  as  symptoms  —  preceding  or  accompanying. 
As  belonging  to  the  former  class,  take  the  following 
story :  At  midnight  an  elderly  gentleman  suddenly 
sends  round  a  message  to  a  select  party  of  noblemen, 
rouses  them  out  of  bed,  and  summons  them  instantly 


THE    i  S3ASS.  129 

to  his  palace.  Trembling  for  their  lives  from  the 
Buddenness  of  the  summons,  and  from  the  unsi  as- 
sailable hour,  and  scarcely  doubting  that  by  some 
anonymous  delator  they  have  been  implicated  as 
parties  to  a  conspiracy,  they  hurry  to  the  palace  — 
arc  received  in  portentous  silence  by  the  ushers  and 
pages  in  attendance  —  arc  conducted  to  a  saloon, 
where  [as  in  everywhere  else)  the  silence  of  night 
prevails,  united  with  the  silence  of  fear  and  whispering 
expectation.  All  are  seated  —  all  look  at  each  other 
in  ominous  anxiety.  Which  is  accuser:  Which  is 
the  accused?  On  whom  shall  their  suspicions  settle 
—  on  whom  their  pity?  All  are  silent  —  almost 
speechless  —  and  even  the  current  of  their  thoughts  is 
frost-bound  by  fear.  Suddenly  the  sound  of  a  fiddle 
or  a  viol  is  caught  from  a  distance  —  it  swells  upon 
the  ear  —  steps  approach  —  and  in  another  moment 
in  rushes  the  elderly  gentleman,  grave  and  gloomy 
as  his  audience,  but  capering  about  in  a  frenzy  of 
excitement.  For  half  an  hour  he  continues  to  perform 
all  possible  evolutions  of  caprioles,  pirouettes,  and 
r  extravagant  feats  of  activity,  accompanying 
himself  on  the  fiddle;  and,  at  length,  not  having 
once  looked  at  his  guests,  the  elderly  gentleman 
whirls  out  of  the  room  in  the  same  transport  of 
emotion  with  which  he  entered  it;  the  panic-struck 
visitors  are  requested  by  a  slave  to  consider  themselves 
d:    they   retire;    resume    their    couches:  — 


130  THE    CJESARS. 

the  nocturnal  pageant  has  '  dislimned '  and  vanished; 
and  on  the  following  morning,  were  it  not  for  their 
concurring  testimonies,  all  would  he  disposed  to  take 
this  interruption  of  their  sleep  for  one  of  its  most 
fantastic  dreams.  The  elderly  gentleman  who  fig- 
ured in  this  delirious  pas  sail  —  who  was  he  ?  He 
was  Tiberius  Ciesar,  king  of  kings,  and  lord  of  the 
terraqueous  globe.  Would  a  British  jury  demand 
better  evidence  than  this  of  a  disturbed  intellect  in 
any  formal  process  de  lunatico  inquirendo  ?  For 
Caligula,  again,  the  evidence  of  symptoms  is  still 
plainer.  He  knew  his  own  defect ;  and  proposed 
going  through  a  course  of  hellebore.  Sleeplessness, 
one  of  the  commonest  indications  of  lunacy,  haunted 
him  in  an  excess  rarely  recorded.22  The  same,  or 
similar  facts,  might  be  brought  forward  on  behalf  of 
Nero.  And  thus  these  unfortunate  princes,  who  have 
so  long  (and  with  so  little  investigation  of  their  cases) 
passed  for  monsters  or  for  demoniac  counterfeits  of 
men,  would  at  length  be  brought  back  within  the  fold 
of  humanity,  as  objects  rather  of  pity  than  of  abhor- 
rence, would  be  reconciled  to  our  indulgent  feelings, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  made  intelligible  to  our  under- 
standings. 


TI1K    CJES.VRS. 


131 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  five  Caesars  who  succeeded  immediately  to  the 
first  twelve,  were,  in  as  high  a  sense  as  their  office 
allowed,  patriots.  Hadrian  is  perhaps  the  first  of  all 
whom  circumstances  permitted  to  show  his  patiotism 
without  fear.  It  illustrates  at  one  and  the  same 
moment  a  trait  in  this  emperor's  character,  and  in  the 
Roman  habits,  that  he  acquired  much  reputation  for 
hardiness  by  walking  bareheaded.  '  Never,  on  any 
occasion,"  says  one  of  his  memorialists  (Dio),  'neither 
in  summer  heat  nor  in  winter's  cold,  did  he  cover  his 
head  ;  hut,  as  well  in  the  Celtic  snows  as  in  Egyptian 
heats,  he  went  about  bareheaded/  This  anecdote 
could  not  fail  to  win  the  especial  admiration  of  Isaac 
Casauhon,  who  lived  in  an  age  when  men  believed  a 
hat  no  less  indispensahlc  to  the  head,  even  within 
doors,  than  shoes  or  stockings  to  the  feet.  His  aston- 
ishment on  the  occasion  is  thus  expressed :  '  Tan  turn 
est  >,  aoxtjois  ■• '  such  and  so  mighty  is  the  force  of  habit 
and  daily  use.  And  then  he  goes  on  to  ask  —  '  Quis 
hodic  nudum  caput  radiis  solis,  aut  omnia  perurenti 
frigori,  ausit  cxponere  : '  Yet  we  ourselves  and  our 
illustrious  friend,  Christopher  North,  have  walked  for 
twenty  years  amongst  our  British  lakes  and  mountains 


132  THE    C.ESAKS. 

hatless,  and  amidst  both  snow  and  rain,  such  as  Ro- 
mans did  not  often  experience.  We  were  naked,  and 
yet  not  ashamed.  Nor  in  this  arc  we  altogether  singu- 
lar. But,  says  Casaubon,  the  Romans  went  farther; 
for  they  walked  about  the  streets  of  Rome23  bare- 
headed, and  never  assumed  a  hat  or  a  cap,  a  fzlasus  or 
a  galcrus,  a  Macedonian  causia,  or  a  pileus,  whether 
Thessalian,  Arcadian  or  Laconic,  unless  when  tbey 
entered  upon  a  journey.  Nay,  some  there  were,  as 
Masinissa  and  Julius  Caesar,  who  declined  even  on 
such  an  occasion  to  cover  their  heads.  Perhaps  in 
imitation  of  these  celebrated  leaders,  Hadrian  adopted 
the  same  practice,  but  not  with  the  same  result ;  for  to 
him,  either  from  age  or  constitution,  this  very  custom 
proved  the  original  occasion  of  his  last  illness. 

Imitation,  indeed,  was  a  general  principle  of  action 
with  Hadrian,  and  the  key  to  much  of  his  public 
conduct ;  and  allowably  enough,  considering  the  ex- 
emplary lives  (in  a  public  sense)  of  some  who  had 
preceded  him,  and  the  singular  anxiety  with  which  he 
distinguished  between  the  lights  and  shadows  of  their 
examples.  He  imitated  the  great  Dictator,  Julius,  in 
his  vigilance  of  inspection  into  the  civil,  not  less  than 
the  martial  police  of  his  times,  shaping  his  new  regu- 
lations to  meet  abuses  as  they  arose,  and  strenuously 
maintaining  the  old  ones  in  vigorous  operation.  As 
respected  the  army,  this  was  matter  of  peculiar  praise, 
because  peculiarly  disinterested  ;  for  his  foreign  policy 


a  ii  1:    CSSABS.  133 

was  pacific;24    he  made  no  new  conquests:    and  he 

retired  from  the  old  ones  of  Trojan,  where  they  could 
not  have  been  maintained  without  disproportionate 
bloodshed,  or  a  jealousy  beyond  the  value  of  the  stake. 
In  this  point  of  his  administration  he  took  Augustus 
for  his  model  ;  as  again  in  his  care  of  the  army,  in  his 
occasional  bounties,  and  in  his  paternal  solicitude  for 
their  comforts,  he  looked  rather  to  the  example  of  Julius. 
Him  also  lie  imitated  in  his  affability  and  in  his  ambi- 
tious courtesies  ;  one  instance  of  which,  as  blending 
an  artifice  of  political  subtlety  and  simulation  with  a 
remarkable  exertion  of  memory,  it  may  be  well  to 
mention.  The  custom  was,  in  canvassing  the  citizens 
of  Rome,  that  the  candidate  should  address  every  voter 
by  his  name  ;  it  was  a  fiction  of  republican  etiquette, 
that  every  man  participating  in  the  political  privileges 
of  the  State  must  be  personally  known  to  public  aspi- 
rants. But,  as  this  was  supposed  to  be,  in  a  literal 
sense,  impossible  to  all  men  with  the  ordinary  endow- 
ments of  memory,  in  order  to  reconcile  the  pretensions 
of  republican  hauteur  with  the  necessities  of  human 
weakness,  a  custom  had  grown  up  of  relying  upon 
a  class  of  men  called  nomenclators,  whose  express 
business  and  profession  it  was  to  make  themselves 
acquainted  with  the  person  and  name  of  every  citizen. 
One  of  tin ise  people  accompanied  every  candidate,  and 
quietly  whispered  into  his  ear  the  name  of  each  voter 
as  he   came   in  sight.     Few,  indeed,   were  they  who 


134  THE    CJESARS. 

could  dispense  with,  the  services  of  such  an  assessor ; 
for  the  office  imposed  a  twofold  memory,  that  of 
names  and  of  persons ;  and  to  estimate  the  immensity 
of  the  effort,  we  must  recollect  that  the  number  of 
voters  often  far  exceed  one  quarter  of  a  million. 
The  very  same  trial  of  memory  he  undertook  with 
respect  to  his  own  army,  in  this  instance  recalling  the 
well  known  feat  of  Mithridates.  And  throughout  his 
life  he  did  not  once  forget  the  face  or  name  of  any 
veteran  soldier  whom  he  had  ever  occasion  to  notice, 
no  matter  under  what  remote  climate,  or  under  what 
difference  of  circumstances.  Wonderful  is  the  effect 
upon  soldiers  of  such  enduring  and  separate  remem- 
brance, which  operates  always  as  the  most  touching 
kind  of  personal  flattery,  and  which,  in  every  age  of 
the  world,  since  the  social  sensibilities  of  men  have 
been  much  developed,  military  commanders  are  found 
to  have  played  upon  as  the  most  effectual  chord  in  the 
great  system  which  they  modulated ;  some  few,  by  a 
rare  endowment  of  nature ;  others,  as  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte, by  elaborate  mimicries  of  pantomimic  art.25 

Other  modes  he  had  of  winning  affection  from  the 
army ;  in  particular  that,  so  often  practised  before  and 
since,  of  accommodating  himself  to  the  strictest  ritual 
of  martial  discipline  and  castrensian  life.  He  slept  in 
the  open  air,  or,  if  he  used  a  tent  (papilio),  it  was 
open  at  the  sides.  He  ate  the  ordinary  rations  of 
cheese,  bacon,  &c. ;   he  used  no  other  drink  than  that 


ini:    CJ-SA.BS.  135 

composition  of  vinegar  and  water,  known  by  the  name 
oiposca,  which  formed  the  sole  beverage  allowed  in  the 
Roman  camps.  He  joined  personally  in  the  periodical 
exercises  of  the  army  —  those  even  which  were  trying 
to  the  most  vigorous  youth  and  health  :  marching,  for 
example,  on  stated  occasions,  twenty  English  miles 
without  intermission,  in  full  armor  and  completely 
accoutred.  Luxury  of  every  kind  he  not  only  inter- 
dicted to  the  soldier  by  severe  ordinances,  himself 
enforcing  their  execution,  but  discountenanced  it 
(though  elsewhere  splendid  and  even  gorgeous  in  his 
personal  habits)  by  Ins  own  continual  example.  In 
dress,  for  instance,  he  sternly  banished  the  purple  and 
gold  embroideries,  the  jewelled  arms,  and  the  floating 
draperies,  so  little  in  accordance  with  the  severe  char- 
acter of  '  war  in  jinicinc/.,~6  Hardly  would  he  allow 
himself  an  ivory  hilt  to  his  sabre.  The  same  severe 
proscription  he  extended  to  every  sort  of  furniture,  or 
decorations  of  art,  which  sheltered  even  in  the  bosom 
of  camps  tlmse  habits  of  effeminate  luxury  —  so  apt  in 
all  greai  empii  teal  by  imperceptible  steps  from 

the  voluptuous  palace  to  the  soldier's  tent  —  following 
in  the  equipage  of  great  leading  officers,  or  of  subal- 
terns highly  connected.  There  was  at  that  time  a 
practice  prevailing,  in  the  great  standing  camps  on  the 
several  frontiers  and  at  all  the  military  stations,  of  re- 
newing as  much  as  possible  the  image  of  distant  Rome 
by   the    erection   of  long   colonnades    and    piazzas  — 


136  the    cj:sars. 

single,  double,  or  triple ;  of  crypts,  or  subterranean  27 
saloons,  (and  sometimes  subterranean  galleries  and 
corridors,)  for  evading  the  sultry  noontides  of  July  and 
August ;  of  verdant  cloisters  or  arcades,  with  roofs 
high  over-arched,  constructed  entirely  out  of  flexile 
shrubs,  box-myrtle,  and  others,  trained  and  trimmed  in 
regular  forms  ;  besides  endless  other  applications  of  the 
topiary  ^  art,  which  in  those  days  (like  the  needlework 
of  Miss  Linwood  in  ours),  though  no  more  than  a 
mechanic  craft,  in  some  measure  realized  the  effects  of 
a  fine  art  by  the  perfect  skill  of  its  execution.  All 
these  modes  of  luxury,  with  a  policy  that  had  the  more 
merit  as  it  thwarted  his  own  private  inclinations,  did 
Hadrian  peremptorily  abolish  ;  perhaps  amongst  other 
more  obvious  purposes,  seeking  to  intercept  the  earliest 
buddings  of  those  local  attachments  which  are  as  inju- 
rious to  the  martial  character  and  the  proper  pursuits 
of  men  whose  vocation  obliges  them  to  consider  them- 
selves eternally  under  marching  orders,  as  they  are 
propitious  to  all  the  best  interests  of  society  in  connec- 
tion with  the  feelings  of  civic  life. 

We  dwell  upon  this  prince  not  without  reason  in 
this  particular ;  for,  amongst  the  Caesars,  Hadrian 
stands  forward  in  high  relief  as  a  reformer  of  the  army. 
Well  and  truly  might  it  be  said  of  him  —  that,  post 
Casarem  Octavianum  labantem  disciplinam,  incurid 
superiorum  principum,  ipse  retinuit.  Not  content 
with  the  cleansing  and  purgations  we  have  mentioned, 


THE    CiESARS.  137 

he  placed  upon  a  new  footing  the  whole  tenure,  duties, 
and  pledges  of  military  offices.20  It  cannot  much  sur- 
prise us  that  this  department  of  the  puhlic  service 
should  gradually  have  gone  to  ruin  or  decay.  Under 
the  scimte  and  people,  under  the  auspices  of  those 
awful  symbols  —  letters  more  significant  and  ominous 
than  ever  before  had  troubled  the  eyes  of  man,  except 
upon  Belshazzar's  wall —  S.  P.  Q.  R.,  the  officers  of 
the  Roman  army  had  been  kept  true  to  their  duties, 
and  vigilant  by  emulation  and  a  healthy  ambition. 
But,  when  the  ripeness  of  corruption  had  by  dissolving 
the  body  of  the  State  brought  out  of  its  ashes  a  new 
mode  of  life,  and  had  recast  the  aristocratic  republic, 
by  aid  of  its  democratic  elements  then  suddenly  vic- 
torious, into  a  pure  autocracy  —  whatever  might  be 
the  advantages  in  other  respects  of  this  great  change, 
in  one  point  it  had  certainly  injured  the  public  service, 
by  throwing  the  higher  military  appointments,  all  in 
fact  which  conferred  any  authority,  into  the  channels 
of  court  favor —  and  by  consequence  into  a  mercenary 
disposal.  Bach  successive  emperor  had  been  too 
anxious  for  his  own  immediate  security,  to  find  leisure 
for  the  remoter  interests  of  the  empire  :  all  looked  to 
the  army,  as  it  were,  for  their  own  immediate  security 
against  competitors,  without  venturing  to  tamper  with 
its  constitution,  to  risk  popularity  by  reforming  abuses, 
to  balance  present  interest  against  a  remote  one,  or  to 
cultivate  the  public  welfare  at  the  hazard  of  their  own  : 
12 


138  THE    C^SARS. 

contented  with  obtaining  that,  they  left  the  internal 
arrangements  of  so  formidable  a  body  in  the  state  to 
which  circumstances  had  brought  it,  and  to  which 
naturally  the  views  of  all  existing  beneficiaries  had 
gradually  adjusted  themselves.  What  these  might  be, 
and  to  what  further  results  they  might  tend,  was  a 
matter  of  moment  doubtless  to  the  empire.  But  the 
empire  was  strong  ;  if  its  motive  energy  was  decaying, 
its  vis  inertia  was  for  ages  enormous,  and  could  stand 
up  against  assaults  repeated  for  many  ages :  whilst  the 
emperor  was  in  the  beginning  of  his  authority  weak, 
and  pledged  by  instant  interest,  no  less  than  by  express 
promises,  to  the  support  of  that  body  whose  favor  had 
substantially  supported  himself.  Hadrian  was  the  first 
who  turned  his  attention  effectually  in  that  direction ; 
wrhether  it  were  that  he  first  was  struck  with  the 
tendency  of  the  abuses,  or  that  he  valued  the  hazard 
less  which  he  incurred  in  correcting  them,  or  that 
having  no  successor  of  his  own  blood,  he  had  a  less 
personal  and  affecting  interest  at  stake  in  setting  this 
hazard  at  defiance.  Hitherto,  the  highest  regimental 
rank,  that  of  tribune,  had  been  disposed  of  in  two 
ways,  either  civilly  upon  popular  favor  and  election,  or 
upon  the  express  recommendation  of  the  soldiery.  This 
custom  had  prevailed  under  the  republic,  and  the  force 
of  habit  had  availed  to  propagate  that  practice  under  a 
new  mode  of  government.  But  now  were  introduced 
new  regulations :  the  tribune  was  selected  for  his  mili- 


XII i:   0JE8AB8.  139 

tary  qualities  and  experience  :    none  was  appointed  to 
this   important   office,   'nisi   harbd  phnd.'     The  cen- 
turion's   truncheon,30   again,    was    given    to    no    man, 
•  nisi   robusto  ct   bo?ice  fam<z!     The  arms  and  military 
appointments  (supellectilis)  were  revised  ;    the  register 
of  names  was  duly  called  over ;   and  none  suffered  to 
remain  in  the  camps  who  was  either  above  or  below 
the  military  age.     The   same  vigilance   and   jealousy 
were  extended  to  the  great  stationary  stores  and  reposi- 
tories of  biscuit,  vinegar,  and  other  equipments  for  the 
soldiery.      All  things  were  in  constant  readiness  in  the 
capital  and  the  provinces,  in  the  garrisons  and  camps, 
abroad  and  at  home,  to  meet  the  outbreak  of  a  foreign 
war  or  a  domestic  sedition.      Whatever  were  the  ser- 
vice, it  could  by  no  possibility  find  Hadrian  unprepared. 
And  he  first,  in  fact,  of  all  the  Caesars,  restored  to  its 
ancient  republican  standard,  as  reformed  and  perfected 
by  Nanus,  the  old  martial  discipline  of  the  Scipios  and 
the  Paulli  —  that  discipline,  to  which,  more  than  to  any 
physical   superiority  of  her  soldiery,  Rome  had  been 
indebted  for  her  conquest  of  the  earth  ;  and  which  had 
inevitably  decayed  in  the  long  series  of  wars  growing 
out  of  personal  ambition.      From  the  days  of  Marius, 
every  great    leader  had  sacrificed  to  the  necessities  of 
courting  favor  from  the  troops,  as  much  as  was  possible 
of  the  hardships  incident  to  actual  service,  and  as  much 
as  he  dared  of  the  once  rigorous  discipline.     Hadrian 
first  found  himself  in  circumstances,  or   was  the  first 


140  THE    C.ESARS. 

who  had  courage  enough  to  decline  a  momentary 
interest  in  favor  of  a  greater  in  reversion  ;  and  a  per- 
sonal object  which  was  transient,  in  favor  of  a  State 
one  continually  revolving. 

For  a  prince,  with  no  children  of  his  own,  it  is  in 
any  case  a  task  of  peculiar  delicacy  to  select  a  suc- 
cessor. In  the  Roman  empire  the  difficulties  were 
much  aggravated.  The  interests  of  the  State  were,  in 
the  first  place,  to  he  consulted ;  for  a  mighty  burthen 
of  responsibility  rested  upon  the  emperor  in  the  most 
personal  sense.  Duties  of  every  kind  fell  to  his  station, 
which,  from  the  peculiar  constitution  of  the  govern- 
ment, and  from  circumstances  rooted  in  the  very  origin 
of  the  imperatorial  office,  could  not  be  devolved  upon 
a  council.  Council  there  was  none,  nor  could  be 
recognized  as  such  in  the  State  machinery.  The  em- 
peror, himself  a  sacred  and  sequestered  creature,  might 
be  supposed  to  enjoy  the  secret  tutelage  of  the  Supreme 
Deity  ;  but  a  council,  composed  of  subordinate  and 
responsible  agents,  could  not.  Again,  the  auspices  of 
the  emperor,  and  his  edicts,  apart  even  from  any  celes- 
tial or  supernatural  inspiration,  simply  as  emanations 
of  his  own  divine  character,  had  a  value  and  a  conse- 
cration which  could  never  belong  to  those  of  a 
council  —  or  to  those  even  which  had  been  sullied  by 
the  breath  of  any  less  august  reviser.  The  emperor, 
therefore,  or  —  as  with  a  view  to  his  solitary  and 
unique  character  we  ought  to  call  him  —  in  the  original 


THE     CAESARS.  Ml 

unrepresentable  term,  the  imperator,  could  not  delegate 
his  duties,  or  execute  them  in  any  avowed  form  hy 
proxies  or  representative.-;.  He  was  himself  the  great 
fountain  of  law  —  of  honor — of  preferment  —  of  civil 
and  political  regulations.  He  was  the  fountain  also  of 
good  and  evil  fame.  He  was  the  great  chancellor,  or 
supreme  dispenser  of  equity  to  all  climates,  nations, 
languages,  of  his  mighty  dominions,  which  connected 
the  turbaned  races  of  the  Orient,  and  those  who  sat 
in  the  gates  of  the  rising  sun,  with  the  islands  of  the 
West,  and  the  unfathomed  depths  of  the  mysterious 
Scandinavia.  He  was  the  universal  guardian  of  the 
public  and  private  interests  which  composed  the  great 
edifice  of  the  social  system  as  then  existing  amongst 
his  subjects.  Above  all,  and  out  of  his  own  private 
purse,  he  supported  the  heraldries  of  his  dominions  — 
the  peerage,  senatorial  or  praetorian,  and  the  great 
gentry  or  chivalry  of  the  Equitcs.  These  were  classes 
who  would  have  been  dishonored  by  the  censorship 
of  a  less  august  comptroller.  And  for  the  classes 
below  these,  —  by  how  much  they  were  lower  and 
more  remote  from  his  ocular  superintendence,  —  by 
so  much  the  more  were  they  linked  to  him  in  a 
connection  of  absolute  dependence.  Caesar  it  was  who 
provided  their  daily  food,  Caesar  who  provided  their 
pleasures  and  relaxations.  He  chartered  the  fleets 
which  brought  grain  to  the  Tiber  —  he  bespoke  the 
Sardinian    granaries  while    yet    unformed  —  and     the 


142  THE    C^SARS. 

harvests  of  the  Nile  while  yet  unsown.  Not  the  con- 
nection between  a  mother  and  her  unborn  infant  is 
more  intimate  and  vital,  than  that  which  subsisted 
between  the  mighty  populace  of  the  Roman  capitol 
and  their  paternal  emperor.  They  drew  their  nutri- 
ment from  him  ;  they  lived  and  were  happy  by  sym- 
pathy with  the  motions  of  his  will  ;  to  him  also  the 
arts,  the  knowledge,  and  the  literature  of  the  empire 
looked  for  support.  To  him  the  armies  looked  for 
their  laurels,  and  the  eagles  in  every  clime  turned 
their  aspiring  eyes,  waiting  to  bend  their  flight  accord- 
ing to  the  signal  of  his  Jovian  nod.  And  all  these 
vast  functions  and  ministrations  arose  partly  as  a 
natural  effect,  but  partly  also  they  were  a  cause  of 
the  emperor's  own  divinity.  He  was  capable  of  ser- 
vices so  exalted,  because  he  also  was  held  a  god,  and 
had  his  own  altars,  his  own  incense,  his  own  worship 
and  priests.  And  that  was  the  cause,  and  that  was  the 
result  of  his  bearing,  on  his  own  shoulders,  a  burthen 
so  mighty  and  Atlantean. 

Yet,  if  in  this  view  it  was  needful  to  have  a  man 
of  talent,  on  the  other  hand  there  was  reason  to  dread 
a  man  of  talents  too  adventurous,  too  aspiring,  or 
too  intriguing.  His  situation,  as  Caesar,  or  Crown 
Prince,  flung  into  his  hands  a  power  of  fomenting 
conspiracies,  and  of  concealing  them  until  the  very 
moment  of  explosion,  which  made  him  an  object  of 
almost    exclusive    terror  to   his    principal,    the  Caesar 


in  i;   i'.i.vars.  1  13 

Augustus.  His  situation  again,  aa  an  heii  voluntarily 
adopted,  made  him  the  proper  object  of  public  affection 
and  caresses,  which  became  peculiarly  embarrassing  to 
one  who  bad,  perhaps,  soon  found  reasons  for  suspect- 
ing, fearing,  and  bating  him  beyond  all  other  m  sn. 

The  young  nobleman,  whom  Hadrian  adopted  by 
his  earliest  choice,  was  Lucius  Aurelius  Verus,  the  son 
of  Cejonius  Commodus.  These  names  were  borne 
also  by  the  son  ;  but,  after  his  adoption  into  the  JElian 
family,  he  was  generally  known  by  the  appellation  of 
iElius  Verus.  The  scandal  of  those  times  imputed  his 
adoption  to  the  worst  motives.  '  Adriano,'  says  one 
author,  '  («/  malevoli  loquuntur)  acceptior  forma  quam 
moribus.'  And  thus  much  undoubtedly  there  is  to 
countenance  so  shocking  an  insinuation,  that  very  little 
is  recorded  of  the  young  prince  hut  such  anecdotes  as 
illustrate  his  excessive  luxury  and  effeminate  dedica- 
tion to  pleasure.  Still  it  is  our  private  opinion,  that 
11  i  Irian's  real  motives  have  been  misrepresented  ;  that 
he  sought  in  the  young  man's  extraordinary  beauty  — 
[for  he  was,  says  Spartian,  pulchritudinis  regici]  —  a 
plausible  pretext  that  should  be  sufficient  to  explain 
and  to  countenance  his  preference,  whilst  under  his 
provisional  adoption  he  was  enabled  to  postpone  the 
definitive  choice  of  an  imperator  elect,  until  his  own 
more  advanced  age  might  diminish  the  motives  for 
intriguing  against  himself.  It  was,  therefore,  a  mere 
ad  interim    adoption ;    for   it   is    certain,    however   we 


1  44  THE    CAESARS. 

may  choose  to  explain  that  fact,  that  Hadrian  foresaw 
and  calculated  on  the  early  death  of  JElius.  This 
prophetic  knowledge  may  have  heen  grounded  on  a 
private  familiarity  with  some  constitutional  infirmity 
affecting  his  daily  health,  or  with  some  habits  of  life 
incompatible  with  longevity,  or  with  both  combined. 
It  is  pretended  that  this  distinguished  mark  of  favor 
was  conferred  in  fulfilment  of  a  direct  contract  on  the 
emperor's  part,  as  the  price  of  favors,  such  as  the 
Latin  reader  will  easily  understand  from  the  strong 
expression  of  Spartian  above  cited.  But  it  is  far 
more  probable  that  Hadrian  relied  on  this  admirable 
beauty,  and  allowed  it  so  much  weight,  as  the  readiest 
and  most  intelligible  justification  to  the  multitude,  of  a 
choice  which  thus  offered  to  their  homage  a  public 
favorite  —  and  to  the  nobility,  of  so  invidious  a  prefer- 
ence, which  placed  one  of  their  own  number  far  above 
the  level  of  his  natural  rivals.  The  necessities  of  the 
moment  were  thus  satisfied  without  present  or  future 
danger ;  —  as  respected  the  future,  he  knew  or  believed 
that  Verus  was  marked  out  for  early  death  ;  and  would 
often  say,  in  a  strain  of  compliment  somewhat  dispro- 
portionate, applying  to  him  the  Virgilian  lines  on  the 
hopeful  and  lamented  Marcellus, 

'  Ostendeut  terris  hunc  tautum  fata,  nerjue  ultra 
Esse  sinent.' 

And,  at  the  same  time,  to  countenance  the  belief  that 

he    had   been   disappointed,    he  would  affect  to  sigh, 


1  BE    C  i  SABS.  145 

exclaiming  —  'Ah  !  that  I  should  thus  fruitlessly  have 

squandered  a  sum  of  three31  millions  sterling  ! '  for  so 
much  had  been  distributed  in  largesses  to  the  people 
and  the  army  on  the  occasion  of  his  inauguration. 
Meantime,  as  resp  icted  the  present,  the  qualities  of  the 
young  man  were  amply  fitted  to  sustain  a  Roman  pop- 
ularity ;  for,  in  addition  to  his  extreme  and  statuesque 
beauty  of  person,  he  was  (in  the  report  of  one  who  did 
not  wish  to  color  his  character  advantageously)  '  manor 
familia  sua,  comptus,  decorus,  oris  venerandi,  cloquen- 
tia  celsioris,  versu  facilis,  in  republicd  etiam  non 
inutllis.'  a  as  a  military  officer,  he  bad  a  respect- 

able n-  character ;  as  an  orator  he  was  more  than 
resp  table  ;  and  in  other  qualifications  less  interesting 
to  the  populace,  he  had  that  happy  mediocrity  of  merit 
which  was  best  fitted  for  his  delicate  and  difficult 
situation  —  sufficient  to  do  credit  to  the  emperor's 
preference  —  sufficient  to  sustain  the  popular  regard, 
but  not  brilliant  enough  to  throw  his  patron  into  the 
shade.  For  the  rest  bis  vices  were  of  a  nature  not 
gn  atly  or  necessarily  to  interfere  with  his  public 
duties,  and  emphatically  such  as  met  with  the  readiest 
indulgence  from  the  Roman  laxity  of  morals.  Some 
few  instances,  indeed,  are  noticed  of  cruelty:  but  there 
is  reason  to  think  that  it  was  merely  by  accident,  and 
as  an  indireel  resull  of  other  purposes,,  that  he  ever 
allowed  himself  in  such  manifestations  of  irresponsible 
power  —  not  as  gratifying  any  harsh  impulses  of  his 
13 


146  THE     C&SARS. 

native  character.  The  most  remarkable  neglect  of 
humanity  with  which  he  has  been  taxed,  occurred  in 
the  treatment  of  his  couriers  ;  these  were  the  bearers 
of  news  and  official  dispatches,  at  that  time  fulfilling 
the  functions  of  the  modern  post ;  and  it  must  be 
remembered  that  as  yet  they  were  not  slaves,  (as  after- 
wards by  the  reformation  of  Alexander  Severus,)  tut 
free  citizens.  They  had  been  already  dressed  in  a 
particular  livery  or  uniform,  and  possibly  they  might 
wear  some  symbolical  badges  of  their  profession  ;  but 
the  new  Caesar  chose  to  dress  them  altogether  in 
character  as  winged  Cupids,  affixing  literal  wings  to 
their  shoulders,  and  facetiously  distinguishing  them 
by  the  names  of  the  four  cardinal  winds,  (Boreas, 
Aquilo,  Notus,  &c.)  and  others  as  levanters  or  hurri- 
canes, (Circius,  &c.)  Thus  far  he  did  no  more  than 
indulge  a  blameless  fancy ;  but  in  his  anxiety  that  his 
runners  should  emulate  their  patron  winds,  and  do 
credit  to  the  names  which  he  had  assigned  them,  he  is 
said  to  have  exacted  a  degree  of  speed  inconsistent 
with  any  merciful  regard  for  their  bodily  powers.33 
But  these  were,  after  all,  perhaps,  mere  improvements 
of  malice  upon  some  solitary  incident.  The  true  stain 
upon  his  memory,  and  one  which  is  open  to  no  doubt 
whatever,  is  excessive  and  extravagant  luxury  —  ex- 
cessive in  degree,  extravagant  and  even  ludicrous  in 
its  forms.  For  example,  he  constructed  a  sort  of  bed 
or  sofa  —  protected  from  insects  by  an  awning  of  net- 


THE    CJESAB8.  1  J  7 

work  composed  of  lilies,  delicately  fabricated  into  the 
proper  meshes,  &c,  and  the  couches  composed  wholly 
of  rose-leaves ;  and  even  of  these,  not  without  an  ex- 
quisite preparation;  for  the  white  parts  of  the  leaves, 
as  coarsi  i-  and  harsher  to  the  touch,  (possibly,  also,  as 
less  odorous,)  were  scrupulously  rejected.  Here  he 
Lay  indolently  stretched  amongst  favorite  ladies, 

'And  like  a  naked  Indian  slept  himself  away.' 
II  had  also  tables  composed  of  the  same  delicate 
material  —  prepared  and  purified  in  the  same  elaborate 
way  —  and  to  these  were  adapted  seats  in  the  fashion 
of  sofas  (accubationes),  corresponding  in  their  mate- 
rials, and  in  their  mode  of  preparation.  He  was  also 
an  expert  performer,  and  even  an  original  inventor,  in 
the  art  of  cookery  :  and  one  dish  of  his  discovery, 
which,  from  its  four  component  parts,  obtained  the 
name  of  tetrapharmacum,  was  so  far  from  owing  its 
celebrity  to  its  royal  birth,  that  it  maintained  its  place 
on  Hadrian's  table  to  the  time  of  his  death.  These, 
however,  were  mere  fopperies  or  pardonable  extrava- 
gances in  one  so  young  and  so  exalted  ;  'quae,  etsi 
non  decora,'  as  tin-  his!  >rian  observes,  '  non  tamen  ad 
perniciem  publicam  prompta  sunt.'  A  graver  mode 
of  licentiousness  app  and  in  his  connections  with 
women.  He  made  no  secret  of  his  lawless  amours  ; 
and  to  his  own  wife,  on  her  expostulating  with  him  on 
his  aberrations  in  this  respect,  he  replied  —  that  '  wife' 
was  a  designation  of  rank  and  official  dignity,  not  of 


148  THE    CiESAKS. 

tenderness  and  affection,  or  implying  any  claim  of  love 
on  either  side  ;  upon  which  distinction  he  begged  that 
she  would  mind  her  own  affairs,  and  leave  him  to  pur- 
sue such  as  he  might  himself  be  involved  in  by  his 
sensibility  to  female  charms. 

However,  he  and  all  his  errors,  his  '  regal  beauty,' 
his  princely  pomps,  and  his  authorized  hopes,  were 
suddenly  swallowed  up  by  the  inexorable  grave ;  and 
he  would  have  passed  away  like  an  exhalation,  and 
leaving  no  remembrance  of  himself  more  durable  than 
his  own  beds  of  rose-leaves,  and  his  reticulated  cano- 
pies of  lilies,  had  it  not  been  that  Hadrian  filled  the 
world  with  images  of  his  perfect  fawn-like  beauty  in 
the  shape  of  colossal  statues,  and  raised  temples  even 
to  his  memory  in  various  cities.  This  Caesar,  therefore, 
dying  thus  prematurely,  never  tasted  of  empire ;  and 
his  name  would  have  had  but  a  doubtful  title  to  a  place 
in  the  imperatorial  roll,  had  it  not  been  recalled  to  a 
second  chance  for  the  sacred  honors  in  the  person  of  his 
son  —  whom  it  was  the  pleasure  of  Hadrian,  by  way  of 
testifying  his  affection  for  the  father,  to  associate  in  the 
order  of  succession  with  the  philosophic  Marcus  Aure- 
lius  Antoninus.  This  fact,  and  the  certainty  that  to 
the  second  iElius  Verus  he  gave  his  own  daughter  in 
marriage,  rather  than  to  his  associate  Caesar  Marcus 
Aurelius,  make  it  evident  that  his  regret  for  the  elder 
Verus  was  unaffected  and  deep  ;  and  they  overthrow 
effectually  the  common  report  of  historians  —  that  he 


THE    CjESABS.  149 

repented  of  his  earliest  choice,  as  of  one  that  had  been 
disappointed  not  by  the  decrees  of  fate,  but  by  the 
violent  defect  of  merit  in  its  object.  On  the  contrary, 
he  prefaced  his  inauguration  of  this  junior  Caesar  by 
the  following  tender  words  —  Let  us  confound  the 
rapine  of  the  grave,  and  let  the  empire  possess  amongst 
her  rulers  a  s  icond  Jdius  Verus. 

'  Diis  aliter  visum  csl:'  the  blood  of  the  ^Elian 
family  was  not  privileged  to  ascend  or  aspire:  it  gra- 
vitated violently  to  extinction  ;  and  this  junior  Verus 
is  supposed  to  have  been  as  much  indebted  to  his  as- 
lor  on  the  throne  for  shielding  his  obscure  vices,  and 
drawing  over  his  defects  the  ample  draperies  of  the 
imperatorial  robe,  as  he  was  to  Hadrian,  his  grand- 
father by  fiction  of  law',  for  his  adoption  into  the 
reigning  family,  and  his  consecration  as  one  of  the 
Caesars.  He,  says  one  historian,  shed  no  ray  of  light 
or  illustration  upon  the  imperial  house,  except  by  one 
solitary  quality.  This  bears  a  harsh  sound;  but  it  has 
the  effect  of  a  sudden  redemption  for  his  memory, 
when  we  learn  —  that  this  solitary  quality,  in  virtue  of 
which  ho  claimed  a  natural  affinity  to  the  sacred  house, 
and  challenged  a  natural  interest  in  the  purple,  was  the 
very  princely  one  of — a  merciful  disposition. 

The  two  Antonines  fix  an  era  in  the  imperial  history ; 
for  they  were  both  eminent  models  of  wise  and  good 
rulers  :  and  some  would  say,  that  they  fixed  a  crisis  ; 
for  with  their    successor    commenced,  in  the  populai 


150  THE    C^SARS. 

belief,  the  decline  of  the  empire.  That  at  least  is  the 
doctrine  of  Gibbon  ;  but  perhaps  it  would  not  be  found 
altogether  able  to  sustain  itself  against  a  closer  and 
philosophic  examination  of  the  true  elements  involved 
in  the  idea  of  declension  as  applied  to  political  bodies. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  however,  and  waiving  any  interest 
which  might  happen  to  invest  the  Antonines  as  the  last 
princes  who  kept  up  the  empire  to  its  original  level, 
both  of  them  had  enough  of  merit  to  challenge  a 
separate  notice  in  their  personal  characters,  and  apart 
from  the  accidents  of  their  position. 

The  elder  of  the  two,  who  is  usually  distinguished 
by  the  title  of  Pius,  is  thus  described  by  one  of  his 
biographers  :  — '  He  was  externally  of  remarkable 
beauty  ;  eminent  for  his  moral  character,  full  of  benign 
dispositions,  noble,  with  a  countenance  of  a  most  gentle 
expression,  intellectually  of  singular  endowments,  pos- 
sessing an  elegant  style  of  eloquence,  distinguished  for 
his  literature,  generally  temperate,  an  earnest  lover  of 
agricultural  pursuits,  mild  in  his  deportment,  bountiful 
in  the  use  of  his  own,  but  a  stern  respecter  of  the  rights 
of  others  ;  and,  finally,  he  was  all  this  without  osten- 
tation, and  with  a  constant  regard  to  the  proportions 
of  cases,  and  to  the  demands  of  time  and  place.'  His 
bounty  displayed  itself  in  a  way,  which  may  be  worth 
mentioning,  as  at  once  illustrating  the  age,  and  the 
prudence  with  which  he  controlled  the  most  generous 
of    his    impulses  :  —  '  Fctnus    trientarium,'     says    the 


Tin;    CjESABS.  151 

historian,  *  lu>c  est  minimis  usuris  exercuit,  ul  palri- 
monio  suo  plurimos  ad j  in- a  ret.'  The  meaning  of 
which  is  this:  — la  Rome,  the  customary  interest  for 
money  was  what  was  called  centesimce  usurce;  that  is, 
the  hundredth  part,  or  one  per  cent.  But,  as  this 
expressed  not  the  annual,  hut  the  monthly  interest,  the 
true  rate  was,  in  fact,  twelve  per  cent.  ;  and  that  is  the 
meaning  of  centesima  usurce.  Nor  could  money  he 
obtained  anywhere  on  better  terms  than  these  ;  and, 
moreover,  this  one  per  cent,  was  exacted  rigorously  as 
the  monthly  day  came  round,  no  arrears  being  suffered 
to  lie  over.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  a  pro- 
digious service  to  lend  money  at  a  diminished  rate,  and 
one  which  furnished  many  men  with  the  means  of 
saving  themselves  from  ruin.  Pius,  then,  by  way  of 
extending  his  aid  as  far  as  possible,  reduced  the 
monthly  rate  of  his  loans  to  one-third  per  cent.,  which 
made  the  annual  interest  the  very  moderate  one  of  four 
per  cent.  The  channels,  which  public  spirit  had  as 
yet  opened  to  the  beneficence  of  the  opulent,  were  few 
indeed  :  charity  and  munificence  languished,  or  they 
were  abused,  or  they  were  inefficiently  directed,  simply 
through  defects  in  the  structure  of  society.  Social 
organization,  for  its  large  development,  demanded  the 
agency  of  newspapers,  (together  with  many  other  forms 
of  assistance  from  the  press,)  of  banks,  of  public  car- 
riages on  an  extensive  scale,  besides  infinite  other 
inventions  or  establishments  not  yet  created  —  which 


152  THE    CJESARS. 

support  and  powerfully  re-act  upon  that  same  progress 
of  society  which  originally  gave  birth  to  themselves. 
All  things  considered,  in  the  Home  of  that  day,  where 
all  munificence  confined  itself  to  the  direct  largesses  of 
a  few  leading  necessaries  of  life,  —  a  great  step  was 
taken,  and  the  best  step,  in  this  lending  of  money  at 
a  low  interest,  towards  a  more  refined  and  beneficial 
mode  of  charity. 

In  his  public  character,  he  was  perhaps  the  most 
patriotic  of  Roman  emperors,  and  the  purest  from  all 
taint  of  corrupt  or  indirect  ends.  Peculation,  embez- 
zlement or  misapplication  of  the  public  funds,  were 
universally  corrected  ;  provincial  oppressors  were  ex- 
posed and  defeated  :  the  taxes  and  tributes  were  dimin- 
ished ;  and  the  public  expenses  were  thrown  as  much 
as  possible  upon  the  public  estates,  and  in  some  in- 
stances upon  his  own  private  estates.  So  far,  indeed, 
did  Pius  stretch  his  sympathy  with  the  poorer  classes 
of  his  subjects,  that  on  this  account  chiefly  he  resided 
permanently  in  the  capital  —  alleging  in  excuse,  partly 
that  he  thus  stationed  himself  in  the  very  centre  of  his 
mighty  empire,  to  which  all  couriers  could  come  by 
the  shortest  radii,  but  chiefly  that  he  thus  spared  the 
provincialists  those  burdens  which  must  else  have 
alighted  upon  them  ;  '  for,'  said  he,  '  even  the  slen- 
derest retinue  of  a  Roman  emperor  is  burthensome  to 
the  whole  line  of  its  progress.'  His  tenderness  and 
consideration,  indeed,  were  extended  to  all  classes,  and 


Tin;    CJESAB8.  158 

all  relations  <>f  Ins  subjects  ;  even  to  those  who  stood 
in  the  shadow  of  his  public  displeasure  as  State  delin- 
quents, or  as  the   most  atrocious   criminals.     To  the 

children  of  great  treasury  defaulters,  he  returned  the 
confiscated  estates  of  their  fathers,  deducting  only  v. hat 
might  repair  the  public  loss.  And  so  resolutely  did 
he  refuse  to  shed  the  blood  of  any  in  the  senatorial 
order,  to  whom  he  conceived  himself  more  especially 
bound  in  paternal  ties,  that  even  a  parricide,  whom  the 
laws  would  not  suffer  to  live,  was  simply  exposed  upon 
a  desert  island. 

Little,  indeed,  did  Tins  want  of  being  a  perfect 
Christian,  in  heart  and  in  practice.  Yet  all  this  display 
of  goodness  and  merciful  indulgence,  nay,  all  his 
munificence,  would  have  availed  him  little  with  the 
people  at  large,  had  he  neglected  to  furnish  shows 
and  exhibitions  in  the  arena  of  suitable  magnificence. 
Luckily  for  his  reputation,  he  exceeded  the  general 
standard  of  imperial  splendor  not  less  as  the  patron  of 
the  amphitheatre  than  in  his  more  important  functions. 
It  is  recorded  of  him —  that  in  one  missio  he  sent  for- 
ward on  the  arena  a  hundred  lions.  Nor  was  he  less 
distinguished  by  the  rarity  of  the  wild  animals  which  he 
exhibited  than  by  their  number.  There  were  elephants, 
there  were  crocodiles,  there  were  hippopotami  at  one 
time  upon  the  stage  :  there  was  also  the  rhim  .  and 

the  still  rarer  crocuta  or  corocolta,  with  a  few  slrepsik- 
erotcs.     Some  of  these  were  matched  in  duels,  some  in 


154  THE    CJE.SX3.S. 

general  battles  with  tigers  ;  in  fact,  there  was  no  species 
of  wild  animal  throughout  the  deserts  and  sandy  Zaarras 
of  Africa,  the  infinite  steppes  of  Asia,  or  the  lawny 
iv cesses  and  dim  forests  of  then  sylvan  Europe,34  no 
species  known  to  natural  history,  (and  some  even  of 
which  naturalists  have  lost  sight,)  which  the  Emperor 
Pius  did  not  produce  to  his  Roman  subjects  on  his  cere- 
monious pomps.  And  in  another  point  he  carried  his 
splendors  to  a  point  which  set  the  seal  to  his  liberality. 
In  the  phrase  of  modern  auctioneers,  he  gave  up  the 
wild  beasts  to  slaughter  '  without  reserve.'  It  was  the 
custom,  in  ordinary  cases,  so  far  to  consider  the  enor- 
mous cost  of  these  far-fetched  rarities  as  to  preserve 
for  future  occasions  those  which  escaped  the  arrows  of 
the  populace,  or  survived  the  bloody  combats  in  which 
they  were  engaged.  Thus,  out  of  the  overflowings  of 
one  great  exhibition,  would  be  found  materials  for 
another.  But  Pius  would  not  allow  of  these  reserva- 
tions. All  were  given  up  unreservedly  to  the  savage 
purposes  of  the  spectators;  land  and  sea  were  ran- 
sacked ;  the  sanctuaries  of  the  torrid  zone  were  vio- 
lated;  columns  of  the  army  were  put  in  motion  —  and 
all  for  the  transient  effect  of  crowning  an  extra  hour 
with  hecatombs  of  forest  blood,  each  separate  minute 
of  which  had  cost  a  king's  ransom. 

Yet  these  displays  were  alien  to  the  nature  of  Pius ; 
and  even  through  the  tyranny  of  custom,  he  had  been 
so  little  changed,  that  to  the  last  he  continued  to  turn 


THE    CJE.SA.ViS.  155 

aside,  as  often  as  tllC  public  ritual  of  his  duty  allowed 
him,  from  these  fierce  spectacles  to  the  gentler  amuse- 
ments of  fishing  and  hunting.  His  taste  and  his  affec- 
tions naturally  carried  him  to  all  domestic   pleasures 

of  a  quiet   nature.      A  walk  in  a  shrubbery  or  along  a 
piazza,  enlivened  with  the  conversation  of  a  friend  or 
two,  pleased  him  better  than  all  the  court   festivals ; 
and    among    festivals   or   anniversary   celebrations,  he 
preferred  thus.'   which,  like  the  harvest-home  or  feast 
of   the  vintagers,   whilst   they  sanctioned  a  total  care- 
-  an  1  dismissal  of  public  anxieties,  were  at  the 
same  time  colored  by  the  innocent  gayety  which  be- 
longs to  rural  and  to  primitive  manners.      In  person, 
this   emperor   was   tall   and   dignified   [staturd   cJerafd 
decorus);   but  latterly  he    stooped;    to  remedy  which 
defect,  that   he   might   discharge  his  public    part    with 
the  more  decorum,  he  wore  stays.35     Of  his  other  per- 
sonal habits  little  is  recorded,  except  that,  early  in  the 
morning  and  just  before  receiving  the  compliments  of 
his  friends  and  dependents   (saltilatorcs),   or  what  in 
modern   phrase   would   be   called   his   levee,  he   took   a 
little    plain    bra!     [partem  siccum    comedit),  that    is, 
bread   without  condiments  or  accompaniments  of  any 
kind,  by  way  of  breakfast.      In   no  meal   has   luxury 
advanced   more  upon  the  model  of  the  ancients  than 
in  this:   the  dinners  (crn<<'  of  the  Romans  were  even 
more    luxurious,    and   a   thousand    times   more    costly, 
than  our  own;   but  their  breakfasts  were  scandalously 


1.56  THE    C.ESA.RS. 

meagre ;  and,  with  many  men,  breakfast  was  no  pro- 
fessed meal  at  all.  Galen  tells  us  that  a  little  bread, 
and  at  most  a  little  seasoning  of  oil,  honey,  or  dried 
fruits,  was  the  utmost  breakfast  which  men  generally 
allowed  themselves  :  some  indeed  drank  wine  after  it, 
but  this  was  far  from  being  a  common  practice.30 

The  Emperor  Pius  died  in  his  seventieth  year.  The 
immediate  occasion  of  his  death  was  —  not  breakfast 
nor  ccena,  but  something  of  the  kind.  He  had  received 
a  present  of  Alpine  cheese,  and  he  ordered  some  for 
supper.  The  trap  for  his  life  was  baited  with  toasted 
cheese.  There  is  no  reason  to  think  that  he  ate  im- 
moderately; but  that  night  he  was  ceased  with  indiges- 
tion. Delirium  followed ;  during  which  it  is  singular 
that  his  mind  teemed  with  a  class  of  imagery  and  of  pas- 
sions the  most  remote  (as  it  might  have  been  thought) 
from  the  voluntary  occupations  of  his  thoughts.  He 
raved  about  the  State,  and  about  those  kings  with 
whom  he  was  displeased ;  nor  were  his  thoughts  one 
moment  removed  from  the  public  service.  Yet  he  was 
the  least  ambitious  of  princes,  and  his  reign  was  em- 
phatically said  to  be  bloodless.  Finding  his  fever 
increase,  he  became  sensible  that  he  was  dying;  and  ho 
ordered  the  golden  statue  of  Prosperity,  a  household 
symbol  of  empire,  to  be  transferred  from  his  own  bed- 
room to  that  of  his  successor.  Once  again,  however, 
for  the  last  time,  he  gave  the  word  to  the  officer  of  the 
guard  ;   and,   soon  after,  turning  away  his  face  to   the 


THE    I  1.37 

wall  against  which  his  bed  was  placed,  he  passed  out 
of  life  in  the  verj   gentlest    sleep,    i  quasi  dorm. 
spiritum  reddidit ; '  or,  as  a  Greek  author  expresses  it, 
x«i'  iau  i  no  iv>  uaXazunona).      lie  was  one    of  those  few 

It1  • 

Roman  emperors  whom  posterity  truly  honored  with 
the  title  of  araifiaxos  (or  bloodless)  ;  sol  usque  omnium 
prope  principum  prorsus  sine  civili  sanguine  et  host  Hi 
vixit.  In  the  whole  tenor  of  his  life  and  character  he 
was  thought  to  resemble  Nnma.  And  Pausanias,  after 
i  'narking  on  his  title  of  /.  ..-  (or  Pius),  upon  the 
meaning  and  origin  of  which  there  arc  several  different 
hypotheses,  closes  with  this  memorable  tribute  to  his 
pal  Tiial  qualities  —  <V<;',  St  <<i>,,  x«l  iu  irofta  to  re  Kvqb 
tj,i(>oiTu  cii    xu    i's.  '  xukvvfteros  :    bill,    III 

my  opinion,  he  should  also  hear  the  name  of  Cyrus  the 
elder  —  being  hailed  as  Father  of  the  Human  Race. 

A  thoughtful  Roman  would  have  been  apt  to  ex- 
claim. This  is  too  good  to  last,  upon  finding  so 
admirable  a  ruler  su<  c  ■  ided  by  one  still  more  admira- 
ble in  the  person  of  Marcus  Aurelius.  From  the  first 
dawn  of  his  infancy,  this  prince  indicated,  by  his  grave 
deportment,  the  philosophic  character  of  his  mind  ;  and 
at  eleven  years  of  age  he  professed  himself  a  formal 
devotee  of  philosophy  in  its  strictest  form,  —  assuming 
the  garb,  and  submitting  to  its  most  ascetic  ordinances. 
In  particular,  he  slept  upon  the  ground,  and  in  other 
respects  he  practised  a  Btyle  of  living  the  most  simple 
and  remote  from  the  habits  of  rich  men  [or,   in    his 


158  Tin:  c^esars. 

own  words,  to   ?.nov  xaxa  tm    diairar,  y.al   710(jjjuj  t£?  n"/.e,Gi- 

(f/S,s  «/wj'Tc]  ;  though  it  is  true  that  he  himself  ascribes 
this  simplicity  of  life  to  the  influence  of  his  mother, 
and  not  to  the  premature  assumption  of  the  stoical 
character.  He  pushed  his  austerities  indeed  to  excess  ; 
for  l)io  mentions  that  in  his  boyish  days  he  was  re- 
duced to  great  weakness  by  exercises  too  severe,  and  a 
diet  of  too  little  nutriment.  In  fact,  his  whole  heart 
was  set  upon  philosophic  attainments,  and  perhaps  upon 
philosophic  glory.  All  the  great  philosophers  of  his 
own  time,  whether  Stoic  or  Peripatetic,  and  amongst 
them  Sextus  of  Cheronaea,  a  nephew  of  Plutarch,  were 
retained  as  his  instructors.  There  was  none  whom  he 
did  not  enrich  ;  and  as  many  as  were  fitted  by  birth 
and  manners  to  fill  important  situations,  he  raised  to 
the  highest  offices  in  the  State.  Philosophy,  however, 
did  not  so  much  absorb  his  affections,  but  that  he  found 
time  to  cultivate  the  fine  arts  (painting  he  both  studied 
and  practised),  and  such  gymnastic  exercises  as  he 
held  consistent  with  his  public  dignity.  Wrestling, 
hunting,  fowling,  playing  at  cricket  (jnlci),  he  admired 
and  patronized  by  personal  participation.  He  tried  his 
powers  even  as  a  runner.  But  with  these  tasks,  and 
entering  so  critically,  both  as  a  connoisseur  and  as  a 
practising  amateur,  into  such  trials  of  skill,  so  little  did 
he  relish  the  very  same  spectacles  when  connected 
with  the  cruel  exhibitions  of  the  circus  and  amphithe- 
atre, that  it  was  not  without  some  friendly  violence  on 


THE   ca  SAItS.  159 

the  part  of  those  who  could  venture  on  such  a  liberty, 
nor  even  thus,  perhaps,  without  the  necessities  of  his 

official  station,  that  he  would  be  persuaded  to  visit  either 
one  or  the  other.37     In   this  he  meditated  no  reflection 
upon  his   father  by  adoption,  the    Emperor   Pius  (who 
also,  for  aught  we  know,  might  secretly  revolt  from  a 
species  of  amusement  which,  as  the  prescriptive  test  of 
munificence  in   the  popular  estimate,  it  was  necessary 
to    support;  ;    on    the    contrary,   he    obeyed  him   with 
the  punctiliousness  of  a  Roman  obedience  ;  he  watched 
the  very  motions  of  his  countenance  ;   and  he  waited  so 
continually  upon  his  pleasure,  that  for  thrcc-and-twenty 
•s  which  thi  j  lived  together,  he  is  recorded  to  have 
slept  out   of  his  father's   palace   only  for   two   nights. 
This  rigor  of  filial  duty  illustrates  a  feature  of  Roman 
life  ;   for   such  was  the  sanctity  of  law,  that  a  father 
created  by  legal  fiction  was  in  all  respects  treated  with 
the  same  veneration    and    affection,    as  a    father  who 
claimed  upon  the  most  unquestioned  footing  of  natural 
right.      Such,  however,  is    the   universal    lascness  of 
courts,  that  even  this  scrupulous  and  minute  attention 
to  his  duties,  did  not  protect  Marcus  from  the  injurious 
insinuations  of  whisperers.     There  were  not  want:n»- 
persons  who  endeavored  to  turn  to  account  the  general 
circumstances    in   the    situation    of   the  Caesar,   which 
pointed  him  out  to  the  jealousy  of  the  emperor.      But 
these   being  no  more   than    what   adhere  necessarily  to 
the  case  of  every  heir  as  such,  and  meeting  fortunately 


160  THE    CESARS. 

with  no  more  proncness  to  suspicion  in  the  temper  of 
the  Augustus  than  they  did  with  countenance  in  the 
conduct  of  the  Caesar,  made  so  little  impression,  that  at 
length  these  malicious  efforts  died  away,  from  mere 
defect  of  encouragement. 

The  most  interesting  political  crisis  hrthe  reign  of 
Marcus  was  the  war  in  Germany  with  the  Marcomanni, 
concurrently  with  pestilence  in  Rome.  The  agitation 
of  the  public  mind  was  intense  ;  and  prophets  arose,  as 
since  under  corresponding  circumstances  in  Christian 
countries,  who  announced  the  approaching  dissolution 
of  the  world.  The  purse  of  Marcus  was  open,  as  usual, 
to  the  distresses  of  his  subjects.  But  it  was  chiefly  for 
the  expense  of  funerals  that  his  aid  was  claimed.  In 
this  way  he  alleviated  the  domestic  calamities  of  his 
capital,  or  expressed  bis  sympathy  with  the  sufferers, 
where  alleviation  was  beyond  his  power  ;  whilst,  by  the 
energy  of  his  movements  and  his  personal  presence  on 
the  Danube,  he  soon  dissipated  those  anxieties  of  Home 
which  pointed  in  a  foreign  direction.  The  war,  how- 
ever, had  been  a  dreadful  one,  and  had  excited  such 
just  fears  in  the  most  experienced  heads  of  the  State, 
that,  happening  in  its  outbreak  to  coincide  with  a  Par- 
thian war,  it  was  skilfully  protracted  until  the  entire 
thunders  of  Rome,  and  the  undivided  energies  of  her 
supreme  captains,  could  be  concentrated  upon  this 
single  point.  Both36'  emperors  left  Rome,  and  crossed 
the  Alps ;   the  war  was  thrown  back  upon  its  native 


1  II  I.    I   .1  -  VRS.  161 

seats  —  Austria  and  the  modern  Hungary:  great 
battles  were  fought  and  won  ;  and  peace,  with  conse- 
quent relief  and  restoration  to  liberty,  was  reconquered 
for  many  friendly  nations,  who  had  suffered  under  the 
ravages  of  the  Marcomanni,  the  Sarmatians,  the  Quadi, 
and  the  Vandals ;  whilst  some  of  the  hostile  people 
were  nearly  obliterated  from  the  map,  and  their  names 
blotted  out  from  the  memory  of  men. 

Since  the  days  of  Gaul  as  an  independent  power,  no 
war  had  so  much  alarmed  the  people  of  Rome  ;  and 
their  fear  was  justified  by  the  difficulties  and  prodigious 
efforts  which  accompanied  its  suppression.  The  public 
treasury  was  exhausted  ;  loans  were  an  engine  of  fiscal 
policy,  not  then  understood  or  perhaps  practicable  ;  and 
great  distress  was  at  hand  for  the  State.  In  these 
circumstances,  Marcus  adopted  a  wise  (though  it  was 
then  esteemed  a  violent  or  desperate)  remedy.  Time 
and  excessive  luxury  had  accumulated  in  the  imperial 
palaces  and  villas  vast  repositories  of  apparel,  furniture, 
jewels,  pictures,  and  household  utensils,  valuable  alike 
for  the  materials  and  the  workmanship.  Many  of  these 
articles  were  consecrated,  by  color  or  otherwise,  to  the 
use  of  the  sacred  household  ;  and  to  have  been  found 
in  possession  of  them,  or  with  the  materials  for  making 
them,  would  have  entailed  the  penalties  of  treason. 
All  these  stores  were  now  brought  out  to  open  day,  and 
put  up  to  public  sale  by  auction,  free  license  being  first 
granted  to  the  bidders,  whoever  they  might  be,  to  use. 
14 


162  THE    CjESARS. 

or  otherwise  to  exercise  the  fullest  rights  of  property 
upon  all  they  bought.  The  auction  lasted  for  two 
months.  Every  man  was  guaranteed  in  the  peaceable 
ownership  of  his  purchases.  And  afterwards,  when 
the  public  distress  had  passed  over,  a  still  further  in- 
dulgence was  extended  to  the  purchasers.  Notice  was 
given — that  all  who  were  dissatisfied  with  their  pur- 
chases, or  who  for  other  means  might  wish  to  recover 
their  cost,  would  receive  back  the  purchase  money, 
upon  returning  the  articles.  Dinner  services  of  gold 
and  crystal,  murrhine  vases,  and  even  his  wife's  ward- 
robe of  silken  robes  interwoven  with  gold,  all  these, 
and  countless  other  articles,  were  accordingly  returned, 
and  the  full  auction  prices  paid  back ;  or  were  not 
returned,  and  no  displeasure  shown  to  those  who  pub- 
licly displayed  them  as  their  own.  Having  gone  so 
far,  overruled  by  the  necessities  of  the  public  service, 
in  breaking  down  those  legal  barriers  by  which  a  pecu- 
liar dress,  furniture,  equipage,  &c,  were  appropriated 
to  the  imperial  house,  as  distinguished  from  the  very 
highest  of  the  noble  houses,  Marcus  had  a  sufficient 
pretext  for  extending  indefinitely  the  effect  of  the 
dispensation  then  granted.  Articles  purchased  at  the 
auction  bore  no  characteristic  marks  to  distinguish 
them  from  others  of  the  same  form  and  texture  :  so 
that  a  license  to  use  any  one  article  of  the  sacred 
pattern,  became  necessarily  a  general  license  for  all 
others   which    resembled    them.       And  thus,   without 


THE    C.ESARS.  163 

abrogating  tliu  prejudices  which  protected  the  imperial 
precedency,  a  body  of  sumptuary  laws — the  most 
ruinous  to  the  progress  of  manufacturing  skill, M  which 
has  ever  been  devised — were  silently  suspended.  One 
or  two  aspiring  families  might  be  offended  by  these 
innovations,  which  meantime  gave  the  pleasures  of 
enjoyment  to  thousands,  and  of  hope  to  millions. 

But  these,  though  very  noticeable  relaxations  of  the 
existing  prerogative,  were,  as  respected  the  temper 
which  dictated  them,  no  mure  than  cvery-day  manifes- 
tations of  the  emperor's  perpetual  benignity.  Fortu- 
nately for  .Marcus,  the  indestructible  privilege  of  the 
divina  domus  exalted  it  so  unapproachably  beyond  all 
competition,  that  no  possible  remissions  of  aulic  rigor 
could  ever  be  misinterpreted ;  fear  there  could  be 
none,  lest  such  paternal  indulgences  should  lose  their 
effect  and  acceptation  as  pure  condescensions.  They 
could  neither  injure  their  author,  who  was  otherwise 
charmed  and  consecrated,  from  disrespect ;  nor  could 
they  suffer  injury  themselves  by  misconstruction,  or 
seem  other  than  sincere,  coming  from  a  prince  whose 
entire  life  was  one  long  series  of  acts  expressing  the 
same  affable  spirit.  Such,  indeed,  was  the  effect  of 
this  uninterrupted  benevolence  in  the  emperor,  that  at 
length  all  men,  according  to  their  several  ages,  hailed 
him  as  their  father,  son,  or  brother.  And  when  he 
died,  in  the  sixty-first  year  of  his  life  (the  18th  of  his 
reign),    he    was    lamented    with    a  corresponding    pe- 


164  THE    C^SARS. 

culiarity  in  the  public  ceremonial,  such,  for  instance, 
as  the  studied  interfusion  of  the  senatorial  body  with 
the  populace,  expressive  of  the  levelling  power  of  a 
true  and  comprehensive  grief;  a  peculiarity  for  which 
no  precedent  was  found,  and  which  never  afterwards 
became  a  precedent  for  similar  honors  to  the  best  of 
his  successors. 

But  malice  has   the    divine   privilege   of  ubiquity ; 
and   therefore   it  was  that   even   this  great  model  of 
private   and   public  virtue  did  not  escape  the  foulest 
libels  :  he  was  twice  accused  of  murder ;   once  on  the 
person  of  a  gladiator,  with  whom  the  empress  is  said 
to  have  fallen  in  love ;  and  again,  upon  his  associate 
in  the  empire,   who   died   in  reality  of  an    apopletic 
seizure,    on  his    return    from    the   German    campaign. 
Neither   of  these    atrocious    fictions    ever    gained    the 
least  hold   of  the   public  attention,   so   entirely   were 
they  put  down  by  the  prima  facie  evidence  of  facts, 
and  of  the  emperor's  notorious  character.     In  fact  his 
faults,  if  he  had  any  in  his  public  life,  were  entirely 
those    of   too    much    indulgence.      In  a  few  cases  of 
enormous  guilt,  it  is  recorded  that  he  showed  himself 
inexorable.      But,    generally    speaking,    he     was    far 
otherwise  ;    and,  in   particular,  he  carried  his    indul- 
gence to  his  wife's  vices  to  an  access  which  drew  upon 
him  the  satirical  notice  of  the  stage. 

The  gladiators,  and  still  more  the  sailors  of  that  age, 
were  constantly  to  be  seen  plying  naked,  and  Faustina 


tiik  ojcsabs.  1G5 

was  Bhameless  enough  to  take  her   station  in  places 
which  gave  her  the  advantages  of  a  leisurely  review; 
and  she  actually  selected  favorites  from  Loth   classes 
on  the  ground  of  a  personal  inspection.      "With  others 
of  greater  rank  she  is  said  even  to  have  been  surprised 
by  her  husband ;  in  particular  with  one  called  Tcrtul- 
lus,  at  dinner.'10     But  to  all  remonstrances  on  this  sub- 
ject, Marcus  is  reported  to  have  replied,   '  Si   uxorcm 
dimittimus,  reddamus  ct  dotcm  ; '  mcaniug  that,  baving 
received  his  right  of  succession  to   the  empire  simply 
by  his   adoption   into    the   family   of  Pius,   his    wife's 
father,  gratitude  and  filial  duty  obliged  him  to  view  any 
dishonors  emanating  from  his   wife's  conduct   as  joint 
legacies  with  the   splendors   inherited  from   their  com- 
mon father  ;    in  sbort,   that  he  was   not  at  liberty  to 
separate  the  rose  from  its  thorns.      However,  the  facts 
are  not  sufficiently  known  to  warrant  us  in  criticizing 
very  severely  his  behavior  on   so   trying   an   occasion. 
It  would  be  too  much  for  human  frailty,  that  absolutely 
no  stain  should  remain  upon  his  memory.      Possibly 
the  best  use   which  can  be  made  of  such  a  fact  is,  in 
the  way  of  consolation  to  any  unhappy  man,  whom  his 
wife   may    too   liberally  have   endowed  with   honors  of 
this  kind,  by  reminding  him  that  he   shares    this  dis- 
tinction with  the  great  philosophic  emperor.      The  re- 
flection upon  this   story  by  one  of  his  biographers  is 
this  —  '  Such  is  the  force  of  daily  life  in  a  good  ruler, 
so   great  the  power  of    his    sanctity,    gentleness,   and 


1G6  THE    C.ESARS. 

piety,  that  no  breath  of  slander  or  invidious  suggestion 
from  an  acquaintance  can  avail  to  sully  his  memory. 
In  short,  to  Antonine,  immutable  as  the  heavens  in 
the  tenor  of  his  own  life,  and  in  the  manifestations  of 
his  own  moral  temper,  and  who  was  not  by  possibility 
liable  to  any  impulse  or  "  shadow  of  turning  "  from 
another  man's  suggestion,  it  was  not  eventually  an 
injury  that  he  was  dishonored  by  some  of  his  connec- 
tions ;  on  him,  invulnerable  in  his  own  character, 
neither  a  harlot  for  his  wife,  nor  a  gladiator  for  his 
son,  could  inflict  a  wound.  Then  as  now,  oh  sacred 
lord  Dioclcsian,  he  was  reputed  a  God  ;  not  as  others 
are  reputed,  but  specially  and  in  a  peculiar  sense,  and 
with  a  privilege  to  such  worship  from  all  men  as  you 
yourself  addressed  to  him  —  who  often  breathe  a  wish 
to  Heaven,  that  you  were  or  could  be  such  in  life  and 
merciful  disposition  as  was  Marcus  Aurelius." 

What  this  encomiast  says  in  a  rhetorical  tone  was 
literally  true.  Marcus  was  raised  to  divine  honors,  or 
canonized41  (as  in  Christian  phrase  we  might  express 
it).  That  was  a  matter  of  course  ;  and,  considering 
with  whom  he  shared  such  honors,  they  are  of  little 
account  in  expressing  the  grief  and  veneration  which 
followed  him.  A  circumstance  more  characteristic, 
in  the  record  of  those  observances  which  attested  the 
public  feeling,  is  this  —  that  he  who  at  that  time  had 
no  bust,  picture,  or  statue  of  Marcus  in  his  house,  was 
looked  upon  as  a  profane  and  irreligious  man.    Finally, 


Tin:   (  .1.   LBS.  1G7 

to  do  him  honor  not  by  testimonies  of  men's  opinions 

in  his  favor,  hut  by  facts  of  his  own  life  and  conduct, 
one  memorable  trophy  there  is  amongst  the  moral  dis- 
tinctions of  the  philosophic  Caesar,  utterly  unnoticed 
hitherto  by  historians,  hut  which  will  hereafter  ohtain 
a  conspicuous  place  in  any  perfect  record  of  the  steps 
by  which  civilization  has  advanced,  and  human  nature 
has  been  exalted.  It  is  this  :  Marcus  Aurclius  was  the 
first  great  military  leader  (and  his  civil  office  as  su- 
preme interpreter  and  creator  of  law  consecrated  his 
example)  who  allowed  rights  indefeasible  —  rights  un- 
cancelled by  his  misfortune  in  the  field,  to  the  prisoner 
of  war.  Others  had  been  merciful  and  variously  indul- 
gent, upon  their  own  discretion,  and  upon  a  random 
impulse  to  some,  or  possibly  to  all  of  their  prisoners  ; 
but  this  was  cither  in  submission  to  the  usage  of  that 
particular  war,  or  to  special  self-interest,  or  at  most  to 
individual  good  feeling.  Xone  had  allowed  a  prisoner 
to  challenge  any  forbearance  as  of  right.  But  Marcus 
Aurclius  first  resolutely  maintained  that  certain  inde- 
structible rights  adhered  to  every  soldier,  simply  as  a 
man,  which  rights,  capture  by  the  sword,  or  any  other 
accident  of  war,  could  do  nothing  to  shake  or  dimin- 
ish. We  have  noticed  other  instances  in  which  Marcus 
Aurclius  labored,  at  the  risk  of  his  popularity,  to  ele- 
vate the  condition  of  human  nature.  But  those, 
though  equally  expressing  the  goodness  and  loftiness 
of  bis  nature,  were  by  accident  directed  to  a  perishable 


168  THE    C.T,SAHS. 

institution,  which  time  has  swept  away,  and  along  with 
it  therefore  his  reformations.  Here,  however,  is  an 
immortal  act  of  goodness  built  upon  an  immortal  basis ; 
for  so  long  as  armies  congregate,  and  the  sword  is  the 
arbiter  of  international  quarrels,  so  long  it  will  deserve 
to  be  had  in  remembrance,  that  the  first  man  who  set 
limits  to  the  empire  of  wrong,  and  first  translated 
within  the  jurisdiction  of  man's  moral  nature  that 
state  of  Avar  which  had  heretofore  been  consigned,  by 
principle  no  less  than  by  practice,  to  anarchy,  animal 
violence,  and  brute  force,  was  also  the  first  philosopher 
who  sat  upon  a  throne. 

In  this,  as  in  his  universal  spirit  of  forgiveness,  Ave 
cannot  but  acknowledge  a  Christian  by  anticipation ; 
nor  can  we  hesitate  to  believe,  that  through  one  or 
other  of  his  many  philosophic  friends,42  whose  attention 
Christianity  was  by  that  time  powerful  to  attract,  some 
reflex  images  of  Christian  doctrines  —  some  half-con- 
scious  perception  of  its  perfect  beauty  —  had  flashed 
upon  his  mind.  And  when  we  view  him  from  this 
distant  age,  as  heading  that  shining  array,  the  How- 
ards and  the  Wilberforces,  who  have  since  then  in  a 
practical  sense  hearkened  to  the  sighs  of  '  all  prisoners 
and  captives '  —  we  are  ready  to  suppose  him  addressed 
by  the  great  Founder  of  Christianity,  in  the  words  of 
Scripture,  '  Verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  Thou  art  not  far 
from  the.  kingdom  of  heaven? 

As  a  supplement  to  the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius, 


■mi;   c/ks.vrs.  169 

we  ought  to  notice  the  rise  of  one  great  rebel,  the  sole 
civil  disturber  of  bis  time,  in  Syria.  This  vvus  Avidius 
Cassius,  whose  descent  from  Cassius  (the  noted  con- 
spirator against  the  great  Dictator,  Julius)  seems  to 
have  suggested  to  him  a  wandering  idea,  and  at  length 
a  formal  purpose  of  restoring  the  ancient  republic. 
Avidius  was  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  Oriental 
army,  whose  head-quarters  were  then  fixed  at  Antioch. 
His  native  disposition,  which  inclined  him  to  cruelty, 
and  his  political  views,  made  him,  from  his  first 
entrance  upon  office,  a  severe  disciplinarian.  The  well 
known  enormities  of  the  neighboring  Daphne  gave 
him  ample  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  his  harsh 
propensities  in  reforming  the  dissolute  soldiery.  He 
amputated  heads,  arms,  feet,  and  hams :  he  turned  out 
his  mutilated  victims,  as  walking  spectacles  of  warn- 
ing; he  burned  them;  he  smoked  them  to  death;  and, 
in  one  instance,  he  crucified  a  detachment  of  his  army, 
together  with  their  centurions,  for  having,  unauthor- 
ized, gained  a  splendid  victory,  and  captured  a  large 
booty  on  the  Danube.  Upon  this  the  soldiers  mutinied 
against  him,  in  mere  indignation  at  his  tyranny. 
However,  he  prosecuted  bis  purpose,  and  prevailed,  by 
his  bold  contempt  of  the  danger  which  menaced  him. 
From  the  abuses  in  the  army,  he  proceeded  to  attack 
the  abuses  of  the  civil  administration.  But  as  these 
were  protected  by  the  example  of  the  great  procon- 
sular lieutenants  and  provincial  governors,  policy 
15 


170  THE    CAESARS. 

obliged  him  to  confine  himself  to  verbal  expressions  of 
anger  ;   until  at  length  sensible  that  this  impotent  rail- 
ing did  but  expose  him  to  contempt,  he  resolved  to  arm 
himself  with  the  powers   of  radical   reform,  by  open 
rebellion.     His  ultimate  purpose  was  the  restoration  of 
the  ancient  republic,  or,  (as  he  himself  expresses  it  in 
an  interesting  letter  which  yet  survives,)  lut  in  anti- 
quum statum  publico,  forma  reddatur ;'  i.  e.  that  the 
constitution  should  be  restored  to  its  original  condition. 
And  this  must  be  effected  by  military  violence  and  the 
aid  of  the  executioner  —  or,  in  his  own  words,  multis 
gladiis,    multis   elogiis,    (by   innumerable    sabres,   by 
innumerable  records  of  condemnation.)     Against  this 
man   Marcus  Avas  warned   by  his    imperial    colleague 
Lucius   Veriis,    in    a    very    remarkable    letter.     After 
expressing  his  suspicions  of  him  generally,  the  writer 
goes    on    to    say  — '  I    would    you   had   him    closely 
watched.     For  he  is  a  general  disliker  of  us  and  of  our 
doings ;  he  is  gathering  together  an  enormous  treasure, 
and  he  makes  an  open  jest  of  our  literary  pursuits. 
You,  for  instance,  he  calls  a  philosophizing  old  woman, 
and  me  a  dissolute  buffoon  and  scamp.     Consider  what 
you  would  have  done.     For  my  part,  I  bear  the  fellow 
no  ill  will ;  but  again  I  say,  take  care  that  he  does  not 
do  a  mischief  to  yourself,  or  your  children.' 

Tbe  answer  of  Marcus  is  noble  and  characteristic ; 
'  I  have  read  your  letter,  and  I  will  confess  to  you  1 
think   it  more    scrupulously   timid    than   becomes   an 


THE    C.LSAKS.  171 

emperor,  and  timid  in  a  way  unsuited  to  the  spirit  of 
our  times.  Consider  this  —  if  the  empire  is  destined 
to  Cassius  hy  the  decrees  of  Providence,  in  that  case  it 
will  not  be  in  our  power  to  put  him  to  death,  however 
much  we  may  desire  to  do  so.  You  know  your  great- 
grandfather's saying,  —  No  prince  ever  killed  his  own 
heir  —  no  man,  that  is,  ever  yet  prevailed  against  one 
whom  Providence  had  marked  out  as  his  successor. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  providence  opposes  him,  then, 
without  any  cruelty  on  our  part,  he  will  spontaneously 
fall  into  Mime  snare  spread  for  him  hy  destiny.  Be- 
sides, wc  cannot  treat  a  man  as  under  impeachment 
whom  nohody  impeaches,  and  whom,  hy  your  own 
confession,  the  soldiers  love.  Then  again,  in  cases  of 
high  treason,  even  those  criminals  who  are  convicted 
upon  the  clearest  evidence,  yet,  as  friendless  and 
deserted  persons  contending  against  the  powerful,  and 
matched  against  those  who  are  armed  with  the  whole 
authority  of  the  State,  seems  to  suffer  some  wrong. 
You  remember  what  your  grandfather  said  :  Wretched, 
indeed,  is  the  fate  of  princes,  who  then  first  ohtain 
credit  in  any  charges  of  conspiracy  which  they  allege  — 
when  they  happen  to  seal  the  validity  of  their  charges 
against  the  plotters,  by  falling  martyrs  to  the  plot. 
Domitian  it  was,  in  fact,  who  first  uttered  this  truth  ; 
but  I  choose  rather  to  place  it  under  the  authority  of 
Hadrian,  because  the  sayings  of  tyrants,  even  when 
they  are  true   and   happy,  carry  less  weight  with   them 


172  THE    CAESARS. 

than  naturally  they  ought.  For  Cassius,  then,  let  him 
keep  his  present  temper  and  inclinations ;  and  the  more 
so  —  heing  (as  he  is)  a  good  General  —  austere  in  his 
discipline,  brave,  and  one  whom  the  State  cannot  afford 
to  lose,  For  as  to  what  you  insinuate  —  that  I  ought 
to  provide  for  my  children's  interests,  by  putting  this 
man  judicially  out  of  the  way,  very  frankly  I  say  to 
you  —  Perish  my  children,  if  Avidius  shall  deserve 
more  attachment  than  they,  and  if  it  shall  prove  salu- 
tary to  the  State  that  Cassius  should  live  rather  than 
the  children  of  Marcus.' 

This  letter  affords  a  singular  illustration  of  fatalism, 
such  certainly  as  we  might  expect  in  a  Stoic,  but  car- 
ried even  to  a  Turkish  excess ;  and  not  theoretically 
professed  only,  but  practically  acted  upon  in  a  case  of 
capital  hazard.  That  no  prince  ever  killed  his  oion 
successor,  i.  e.  that  it  was  in  vain  for  a  prince  to  put 
conspirators  to  death,  because,  by  the  very  possibility 
of  doing  so,  a  demonstration  is  obtained  that  such 
conspirators  had  never  been  destined  to  prosper,  is  as 
condensed  and  striking  an  expression  of  fatalism  as 
ever  has  been  devised.  The  rest  of  the  letter  is  truly 
noble,  and  breathes  the  very  soul  of  careless  magna- 
nimity reposing  upon  conscious  innocence.  Meantime 
Cassius  increased  in  power  and  influence  :  his  army 
had  become  a  most  formidable  engine  of  his  ambition 
through  its  restored  discipline  ;  and  his  own  authority 
was  sevenfold  greater,  because  he  had  himself  created 


THE     C/ESARS.  173 

that  discipline  in  the  face  of  unequalled  temptations 
hourly  renewed  and  rooted  in  the  very  centre  of  his 
head-quarters.  '  Daphne,  hy  Orontes,'  a  suhurb  of 
Antioch,  was  infamous  for  its  seductions  ;  and  Dajj/tnic 
luxury  had  become  proverbial  for  expressing  an  excess 
of  voluptuousness,  such  as  other  places  could  not  rival 
by  mere  defect  of  means,  and  preparations  elaborate 
enough  to  sustain  it  in  all  its  varieties  of  mode,  or  to 
conceal  it  from  public  notice.  In  the  very  purlieus 
of  this  great  nest,  or  sty  of  sensuality,  within  sight  and 
touch  of  its  pollutions,  did  he  keep  his  army  fiercely 
reined  up,  daring  and  defying  them,  as  it  were,  to  taste 
of  the  banquet  whose  very  odor  they  inhaled. 

Thus  provided  with  the  means,  and  improved  instru- 
ments, for  executing  his  purposes,  he  broke  out  into 
open  rebellion  ;  and,  though  hostile  to  the  pri/icipatus, 
or  personal  supremacy  of  one  man,  he  did  not  feel  his 
republican  purism  at  all  wounded  by  the  style  and  title 
of  Impcrator, —  that  being  a  military  term,  and  a  mere 
titular  honor,  which  had  co-existed  with  the  severest 
forms  of  republicanism.  lmperator,  then,  he  was 
saluted  and  proclaimed  ;  and  doubtless  the  writer  of 
the  warning  letter  from  Syria  would  now  declare  that 
the  sequel  had  justified  the  fears  which  Marcus  had 
thought  so  unbecoming  to  a  Roman  emperor.  But 
again  Marcus  would  have  said,  '  Let  us  wait  for  tho 
sequel  of  the  sequel,'  and  that  would  have  justified 
him.     It  is  often  found  by  experience  that  men,  who 


174  THE    C^ESATCS. 

have  learned  to  reverence  a  person  in  authority  chiefly 
by  his  offices  of  correction  applied  to  their  own  aberra- 
tions, —  who  have  known  and  feared  him,  in  short,  in 
his  character  of  reformer,  —  will  be  more  than  usually 
inclined  to  desert  him  on  his  first  movement  in  the 
direction  of  wrong.  Their  obedience  being  founded 
on  fear,  and  fear  being  never  wholly  disconnected  from 
hatred,  they  naturally  seize  with  eagerness  upon  the 
first  lawful  pretext  for  disobedience  :  the  luxury  of 
revenge  is,  in  such  a  case,  too  potent,  —  a  meritorious 
disobedience  too  novel  a  temptation,  —  to  have  a 
chance  of  being  rejected.  Never,  indeed,  does  eri-ing 
human  nature  look  more  abject  than  in  the  person  of 
a  severe  exactor  of  duty,  who  has  immolated  thousands 
to  the  wrath  of  offended  law,  suddenly  himself  becom- 
ing a  capital  offender,  a  glozing  tempter  in  search  of 
accomplices,  and  in  that  character  at  once  standing 
before  the  meanest  of  his  own  dependents  as  a  self- 
deposed  officer,  liable  to  any  man's  arrest,  and,  ipso 
facto,  a  suppliant  for  his  own  mercy.  The  stern  and 
haughty  Cassius,  who  had  so  often  tightened  the  cords 
of  discipline  until  they  threatened  to  snap  asunder, 
now  found,  experimentally,  the  bitterness  of  these 
obvious  truths.  The  trembling  sentinel  now  looked 
insolently  in  his  face  ;  the  cowering  legionary,  with 
whom  '  to  hear  was  to  obey,'  now  mused  or  even 
bandied  words  upon  his  orders  ;  the  great  lieutenants 
of  his  office,  who  stood  next   to   his   own   person   in 


THE    OJBSABS.  175 

authority,  were  preparing    fur  revolt,  open    or   secret, 
as   circumstances    should   prescribe  ;    not   the   accuser 
only,  but  the  very  avenger,  was  upon  his  steps  ;  Neme- 
sis, that   Nemesis    who   once  so  closely  adhered  to  the 
name  and  fortunes  of  the  lawful  Caesar,  turning  against 
every  one  of  his  assassins  the  edge  of  his  own  assassi- 
nating  sword,   was   already  at  his   heels  ;   and  in   the 
midst   of  a   sudden  prosperity,  and   its   accompanying 
shouts  of   gratulation,  he  heard  the   sullen  knells  of 
approaching  death.    Antioch,  it  was  true,  the  great  Ro- 
man capital  of  the  Orient,  bore  him,  for  certain  motives 
of  self-interest,  peculiar  good-will.      But  there  was  no 
city  of  the  world  in  which  the  Roman  Caesar  did  not 
reckon  many  liege-men  and  partisans.      And  the  very 
hands,  which  dressed  his  altars  and  crowned  his  Praeto- 
rian pavilion,  might  not  improbably  in  that  same  hour 
put  an  edge  upon  the  sabre  which  was  to  avenge  the 
injuries  of  the  too  indulgent  and  long  suffering  Anto- 
ninus.     Meantime,  to  give  a  color  of  patriotism  to  his 
treason,  Cassius   alleged  public   motives  ;    in  a   letter, 
which  he   wrote  after   asuming   the  purple,  he   says  : 
'  "Wretched    empire,  miserable    state,   which    endures 
these  hungry  blood-suckers  battening  on  her  vitals  !  — 
A  worthy  man,  doubtless,  is  Marcus  ;  who,  in  his  eager- 
ness to  be  reputed  clement,  suffers  those  to  live  whose 
conduct  he  himself  abhors.      Where  is  that  L.  Cassias, 
whose  name  I  vainly  inherit  ?      "Where  is  that  Marcus, 
—  not    Aurelius,    mark    you,    but    Cato    Censorius? 


176  THE    CyESARS. 

"Where  the  good  old  discipline  of  ancestral  times,  long 
since  indeed  disused,  hut  now  not  so  much  as  looked 
after  in    our     aspirations  ?       Marcus    Antoninus    is    a 
scholar  ;  he  enacts  the  philosopher ;   and  he  tries  con- 
clusions upon  the  four  elements,  and  upon   the  nature 
of  the  soul  ;  and  he  discourses  most  learnedly  upon  the 
Honestum  ;   and  concerning  the   Summum  Bonum  he  is 
unanswerable.     Meanwhile,  is  he  learned  in  the  inter- 
ests of  the  State  ?   Can  he  argue  a  point  upon  the  public 
economy  ?     You  see  what  a  host  of  sabres  is  required, 
what  a  host  of  impeachments,   sentences,   executions, 
before   the    commonwealth  can    reassume    its   ancient 
integrity !      What !   shall  I  esteem  as   proconsuls,    as 
governors,  those  who  for  that  end  only  deem  themselves 
invested  with  lieutenancies  or  great  senatorial  appoint- 
ments, that  they  may  gorge  themselves  with  the  provin- 
cial luxuries  and  wealth  ?     No   doubt  you    heard  in 
what  way  our  friend  the  philosopher  gave  the  place  of 
praetorian  prefect  to  one   who  but  three   days  before 
was   a  bankrupt,  —  insolvent,  by  G — ,  and  a  beggar. 
Be  not  you  content:   that  same  gentlemen  is  now  as 
rich  as  a  prefect  should  be  ;  and  has  been  so,  I  tell 
you,  any  time  these  three  days.     And  how,  I  pray  you, 
how  —  how,  my  good  sir  ?    How,  but  out  of  the  bowels 
of  the  provinces,  and  the  marrow  of  their  bones  ?     But 
no  matter,  let  them  be  rich  ;  let  them  be  blood-suckers  ; 
so   much,   God   willing,   shall    they  regorge    into   the 
treasury  of  the   empire.     Let  but  Heaven  smile  upon 


i  ii  i:    l    1>\RS.  177 

our  party,  and  the  Cassiani  shall  return  to  the  republic 
its  old  impersonal  supremacy.' 

But  Heaven  did  not  smile ;  nor  did  man.  Rome 
heard  with  bitter  indignation  of  this  old  traitor's  in- 
gratitude, and  his  false  mask  of  republican  civism. 
Excepting  Marcus  Aurclius  himself,  not  one  man  but 
thirsted  for  revenge.  And  that  was  soon  obtained. 
He  and  all  his  supporters,  one  after  the  other,  rapidly 
fell  (as  Marcus  had  predicted)  into  snares  laid  by  the 
officers  who  continued  true  to  tbeir  allegiance.  Except 
the  family  and  household  of  Cassius,  there  remained  in 
a  short  time  none  for  the  vengeance  of  the  Senate,  or 
for  the  mercy  of  the  Emperor.  In  them  centred  the 
last  arrears  of  hope  and  fear,  of  chastisement  or  par- 
don, depending  upon  this  memorable  revolt.  And 
about  the  disposal  of  their  persons  arose  the  final 
question  to  which  the  case  gave  birth.  The  letters  yet 
remain  in  which  the  several  parties  interested  gave 
utterance  to  the  passions  which  possessed  them.  Faus- 
tina, the  Empress,  urged  her  husband  with  feminine 
violence  to  adopt  against  his  prisoners  comprehensive 
acts  of  vengeance.  '  Xoli  parccre  hominibus,'  savs 
she,  '  qui  tibi  non  popcrcerunt  ;  et  nee  mihi  nee  filiis 
nostris  parccrcnt,  si  vicissent.'  And  elsewhere  she 
irritates  his  wrath  against  the  army  as  accomplices  for 
the  time,  and  as  a  body  of  men  '  qui,  nisi  opprimuntur, 
opprimunt.'  We  may  be  sure  of  the  result.  After 
commending  her   zeal   for  her    own  family,   he    says, 


178  THE    C.l^AES. 


Ego  vero  ot  ejus  liberis  parcara,  ct  genero,  et  uxori ; 
et  ad  senatum   scribam  ne  aut  proscriptio  gravior  sit, 

ant  poena  cvudelior ; '  adding  that,  had  his  counsels 
prevailed,  not  even  Cassius  himself  should  have  per- 
ished. As  to  his  relatives,  '  Why,'  he  asks,  '  should 
I  speak  of  pardon  to  them,  who  indeed  have  done  no 
wrong,  and  are  hlamcless  even  in  purpose  ?  '  Accord- 
ingly, his  letter. of  intercession  to  the  Senate  protests, 
that,  so  far  from  asking  for  further  victims  to  the  crime 
of  Avidius  Cassius,  would  to  God  he  could  call  back 
from  the  dead  many  of  those  who  had  fallen!  With 
immense  applause,  and  with  turbulent  acclamations, 
the  Senate  granted  all  his  requests  '  in  consideration  of 
his  philosophy,  of  his  long-sufTering,  of  his  learning 
and  accomplishments,  of  his  nobility,  of  his  innocence.' 
And  until  a  monster  arose  who  delighted  in  the  blood 
of  the  guiltless,  it  is  recorded  that  the  posterity  of 
Avidius  Cassius  lived  in  security,  and  were  admitted 
to  honors  and  public  distinctions  by  favor  of  him, 
whose  life  and  empire  that  memorable  traitor  had 
sought  to  undermine  under  the  favor  of  his  guileless 
master's  too  confiding  magnanimity. 


THE    CiESABS.  179 


CHAPTER   V. 

The  Roman  empire,  and  the  Roman  emperors,  it 
might  naturally  he  supposed  hy  one  who  had  not  as 
yet  traversed  that  tremendous  chapter  in  the  history 
of  man,  would  he  likely  to  present  a  separate  and 
almost  equal  interest.  The  empire,  in  the  first  place, 
as  the  most  magnificent  monument  of  human  power 
which  our  planet  has  beheld,  must  for  that  single 
reason,  even  though  its  records  were  otherwise  of  little 
interest,  fix  upon  itself  the  very  keenest  gaze  from  all 
succeeding  ages  to  the  end  of  time.  To  trace  the 
fortunes  and  revolution  of  that  unrivalled  monarchy 
over  which  the  Roman  eagle  hrooded,  to  follow  the 
dilapidations  of  that  aerial  arch,  which  silently  and 
steadily  through  seven  centuries  ascended  under  the 
colossal  architecture  of  the  children  of  Romulus,  to 
watch  the  unweaving  of  the  golden  anas,  and  step  by 

p  to  see  paralysis  stealing  over  the  once  perfect 
cohesion  of  the  republican  creations,  —  cannot  but  in- 
sure a  severe,  though  melancholy  delight.  On  its  own 
separate  account,  the  decline  of  this  throne-shattering 
power  must  and  will  engage  the  foremost  place 
amongst  all  historical  reviewers.  The  '  dislimning ' 
and    unmoulding    of  some    mighty   pageantry    in  the 


180  THE    CAESARS. 

heavens  has  its  own  appropriate  grandeurs,  no  less 
than  the  gathering  of  its  cloudy  pomps.  The  going 
down  of  the  sun  is  contemplated  with  no  less  awe 
than  his  rising.  Nor  is  any  thing  portentous  in  its 
growth,  which  is  not  also  portentous  in  the  steps  and 
'  moments '  of  its  decay.  Hence,  in  the  second  place, 
we  might  presume  a  commensurate  interest  in  the 
characters  and  fortunes  of  the  successive  emperors.  If 
the  empire  challenged  our  first  survey,  the  next  would 
seem  due  to  the  Caesars  who  guided  its  course ;  to  the 
great  ones  who  retarded,  and  to  the  had  ones  who 
precipitated,  its  ruin. 

Such  might  he  the  natural  expectation  of  an  inex- 
perienced reader.  But  it  is  not  so.  The  Caesars, 
throughout  their  long  line,  are  not  interesting,  neither 
personally  in  themselves,  nor  derivatively  from  the 
tragic  events  to  which  their  history  is  attached.  Their 
whole  interest  lies  in  their  situation  —  in  the  unap- 
proachable altitude  of  their  thrones.  But  considered 
with  a  reference  to  their  human  qualities,  scarcely  one 
in  the  whole  series  can  be  viewed  with  a  human 
interest  apart  from  the  circumstances  of  his  position. 
'  Pass  like  shadows,  so  depart ! '  The  reason  for  this 
defect  of  all  personal  variety  of  interest  in  these  enor- 
mous potentates,  must  be  sought  in  the  constitution  cf 
their  power  and  the  very  necessities  of  their  office. 
Even  the  greatest  among  them,  those  who  by  way  of 
distinction   were  called  the  Great,  as  Constantino  and 


THE    CJESAE8.  1  Si 

Theodosius,  wore  no  I  great,  for  they  were  not  mag- 
nanimous ;  nor  could  they  be  so  under  their  tenure  of 
power,  which  made  it  a  duty  to  be  suspicious,  and,  by 
fastening  upon  all  varieties  of  original  temper  one  dire 
necessity  of  bloodshed,  extinguished  under  this  monot- 
onous cloud  of  cruel  jealousy  and  everlasting  panic 
every  characteristic  feature  of  genial  human  nature, 
that  would  else  have  emerged  through  so  long  a  train 
of  princes.  There  is  a  remarkable  story  told  of  Aprip- 
pina,  that,  upon  some  occasions,  when  a  wizard  an- 
nounced to  her,  as  truths  which  he  had  read  in  the 
heavens,  the  two  fatal  necessities  impending  over  her 
son,  —  one  that  he  should  ascend  to  empire,  the  other 
that  he  should  murder  herself,  she  replied  in  these 
stern  and  memorable  words  —  Occidat  ditm  imperet. 
Upon  which  a  continental  writer  comments  thus : 
4  Never  before  or  since  have  three  such  words  issued 
from  the  lips  of  woman  ;  and  in  truth,  one  knows  not 
which  most  to  abominate  or  admire  —  the  aspiring 
princess,  or  the  loving  mother.  Meantime,  in  these 
few  words  lies  naked  to  the  day,  in  its  whole  hideous 
deformity,  the  very  essence  of  Romanism  and  the 
impcratorial  power,  and  one  might  here  consider  the 
mother  of  Nero  as  the  impersonation  of  that  monstrous 
condition.' 

This  is  true  :  Occidat  dum  imperet,  was  the  watch- 
word and  very  cognizance  of  the  Roman  imperator. 
But  almost  equally  it  was  his  watchword  —  OccidatW 


182  THE    C.ESARS. 

dum  imperet.  Doing  or  suffering,  the  Csesars  were 
almost  equally  involved  in  bloodshed  ;  very  few  that 
were  not  murderers,  and  nearly  all  were  themselves 
murdered. 

The  empire,  then,  must  he  regarded  as  the  primary 
object  of  our  interest  ;  and  it  is  in  this  way  only  that 
any  secondary  interest  arises  for  the  emperors.  Now, 
with  respect  to  the  empire,  the  first  question  which 
presents  itself  is,  —  Whence,  that  is,  from  what  causes 
and  from  what  era,  we  are  to  date  its  decline  ?  Gib- 
bon, as  we  all  know,  dates  it  from  the  reign  of  Com- 
modus  ;  but  certainly  upon  no  sufficient,  or  even 
plausible  grounds.  Our  own  opinion  we  shall  state 
boldly  :  the  empire  itself,  from  the  very  era  of  its 
establishment,  was  one  long  decline  of  the  Roman 
power.  A  vast  monarchy  had  been  created  and  con- 
solidated by  the  all-conquering  instincts  of  a  republic  — 
cradled  and  nursed  in  wars,  and  essentially  warlike  by 
means  of  all  its  institutions  43  and  by  the  habits  of  the 
people.  This  monarchy  had  been  of  too  slow  a  growth 
—  too  gradual,  and  too  much  according  to  the  regular 
stages  of  nature  herself  in  its  development,  to  have  any 
chance  of  being  other  than  well  cemented :  the  cohe- 
sion of  its  parts  was  intense  ;  seven  centuries  of  growth 
demand  one  or  two  at  least  for  palpable  decay  ;  and  it 
is  only  for  harlequin  empires  like  that  of  Napoleon, 
run  up  with  the  rapidity  of  pantomime,  to  fall  asunder 
under  the  instant  re-action   of  a  few  false   moves  in 


IHJB    C-1.sa.KS.  183 

politics,  or  a  single  unfortunate  campaign.  Hence  it 
\\.i<.  ami  from  the  prudence  of  Augustus  acting  through 
a  very  long  reign,  sustained  at  no  very  distant  interval 
by  the  personal  inspection  and  revisions  of  Hadrian, 
that  for  some  time  the  Roman  power  seemed  to  be 
stationary.  What  else  could  be  expected?  The  mere 
strength  of  the  impetus  derived  from  the  republican 
institutions  could  not  but  propagate  itself,  and  cause 
even  a  motion  in  advance,  for  some  time  after  those 
institutions  had  themselves  given  way.  And,  besides, 
the  military  institutions  survived  all  others;  and  the 
army  continued  very  much  the  same  in  its  discipline 
and  composition,  long  after  Rome  and  all  its  civic  in- 
stitutions had  bent  before  an  utter  revolution.  It  was 
very  possible  even  that  emperors  should  have  arisen 
with  martial  propensities,  and  talents  capable  of  mask- 
ing, for  many  years,  by  specious  but  transitory  con- 
quests, the  causes  that  were  silently  sapping  the  foun- 
dations of  Roman  supremacy  ;  and  thus  by  accidents  of 
personal  character  and  taste,  an  empire  might  even 
have  expanded  itself  in  appearance,  which,  by  all  its 
permanent  and  real  tendencies,  was  even  then  shrink- 
ing within  narrower  limits,  and  travelling  downwards 
to  dissolution.  In  reality  one  such  emperor  there  was. 
Trajan,  whether  by  martial  inclinations,  or  (as  is 
supposed  by  some)  by  dissatisfaction  with  his  own 
position  at  Rome,  when  brought  into  more  immediate 
connection  with  the  senate,  was  driven  into  needless 


184  THE     CAESARS. 

war  ;  and  lie  achieved  conquests  in  the  direction  of 
Daeia  as  well  as  Parthia.  But  that  these  conquests 
were  not  substantial,  —  that  they  were  connected  by 
no  true  cement  of  cohesion  with  the  existing  empire,  is 
evident  from  the  rapidity  with  which  they  were  aban- 
doned. In  the  next  reign,  the  empire  had  already 
recoiled  within  its  former  limits  ;  and  in  two  reigns 
further  on,  under  Marcus  Antoninus,  though  a  prince 
of  elevated  character  and  warlike  in  his  policy,  we  find 
such  concessions  of  territory  made  to  the  Marcomanni 
and  others,  as  indicate  too  plainly  the  shrinking  ener- 
gies of  a  waning  empire.  In  reality,  if  we  consider 
the  polar  opposition,  in  point  of  interest  and  situation, 
between  the  great  officers  of  the  republic  and  the 
Augustus  or  Caesar  of  the  empire,  we  cannot  fail  to  see 
the  immense  effect  which  that  difference  must  have 
had  upon  the  permanent  spirit  of  conquest.  Caesar  was 
either  adopted  or  elected  to  a  situation  of  infinite  luxury 
and  enjoyment.  He  had  no  interests  to  secure  by 
fighting  in  person  ;  and  he  had  a  powerful  interest  in 
preventing  others  from  fighting  ;  since  in  that  way  only 
he  could  raise  up  competitors  to  himself,  and  dangerous 
seducers  of  the  army.  A  consul,  on  the  other  hand, 
or  great  lieutenant  of  the  senate,  had  nothing  to  enjoy 
or  to  hope  for,  when  his  term  of  office  should  have 
expired,  unless  according  to  his  success  in  creating 
military  fame  and  influence  for  himself.  Those 
Caesars  who  fought  whilst  the  empire  was  or  seemed  to 


THE    C.ESA.RS.  185 

be  stationary,  as  Trajan,  did  bo  from  personal  taste. 
Those  who  fought  in  after  centuries,  when  the  decay 
became  apparent,  and  dangers  drew  nearer,  as  Aure- 
lian,  did  so  from  the  necessities  of  fear  ;  and  under 
neither  impulse  were  they  likely  to  make  durable 
conquests.  The  spirit  of  conquest  having  therefore 
departed  at  the  very  time  when  conquest  would  have 
become  more  difficult  even  to  the  republican  energies, 
both  from  remoteness  of  ground  and  from  the  martial 
character  of  the  chief  nations  which  stood  beyond  the 
frontier,  —  it  was  a  matter  of  necessity  that  with  the 
republican  institutions  should  expire  the  whole  principle 
of  territorial  aggrandizement ;  and  that,  if  the  empire 
seemed  to  be  stationary  for  some  time  after  its  estab- 
lishment by  Julius,  and  its  final  settlement  by  Augustus, 
this  was  through  no  strength  of  its  own,  or  inherent  in 
its  own  constitution,  but  through  the  continued  action 
of  that  strength  which  it  had  inherited  from  the  repub- 
lic. In  a  philosophical  sense,  therefore,  it  may  be 
affirmed,  that  the  empire  of  the  Caesars  was  always  in 
decline  ;  ceasing  to  go  forward,  it  could  not  do  other 
than  retrograde ;  and  even  the  first  appearances  of  de- 
cline can,  with  no  propriety,  be  referred  to  the  reign  of 
Commodus.  His  vices  exposed  him  to  public  contempt 
and  assassination ;  but  neither  one  nor  the  other  had 
any  effect  upon  the  strength  of  the  empire.  Here, 
therefore,  is  one  just  subject  of  complaint  against 
Gibbon,  that  he  has  dated  the  declension  of  the  Roman 
16 


186  THE    CESARS. 

power  from  a  commencement  arbitrarily  assumed  ; 
another,  and  a  heavier,  is,  that  he  has  failed  to  notice 
the  steps  and  separate  indications  of  decline  as  they 
arose,  —  the  moments  (to  speak  in  the  language  of 
dynamics)  through  which  the  decline  travelled  onwards 
to  its  consummation.  It  is  also  a  grievous  offence  as 
regards  the  true  purposes  of  history,  —  and  one  which, 
in  a  complete  exposition  of  the  imperial  history,  we 
should  have  a  right  to  insist  on,  —  that  Gibbon  brings 
forward  only  such  facts  as  allow  of  a  scenical  treatment, 
and  seems  everywhere,  by  the  glancing  style  of  his 
allusions,  to  presuppose  an  acquaintance  with  that  very 
history  which  he  undertakes  to  deliver.  Our  immedi- 
ate purpose,  however,  is  simply  to  characterize  the 
office  of  emperor,  and  to  notice  such  events  and  changes 
as  operated  for  evil,  and  for  a  final  effect  of  decay,  upon 
the  Caesars  or  their  empire.  As  the  best  means  of 
realizing  it,  we  shall  rapidly  review  the  history  of  both, 
premising  that  we  confine  ourselves  to  the  true  Caesars, 
and  the  true  empire  of  the  West. 

The  first  overt  act  of  weakness  —  the  first  expres- 
sion of  conscious  declension,  as  regarded  the  foreign 
enemies  of  Rome,  occurred  in  the  reign  of  Hadrian  ; 
for  it  is  a  very  different  thing  to  forbear  making  con- 
quests, and  to  renounce  them  when  made.  It  is 
possible,  however,  that  the  cession  then  made  of 
Mesopotamia  and  Armenia,  however  sure  to  be  inter- 
preted into  the  language  of  fear  by  the  enemy,  did 


THE    OSSAB8.  187 

not  imply  any  such  principle  in  this  emperor.  He 
was  of  a  civic  and  paternal  spirit,  and  anxious  for 
the  substantial  welfare  of  the  empire  rather  than  its 
ostentatious  glory.  The  internal  administration  of 
affairs  had  very  much  gone  into  neglect  since  the 
times  of  Augustus  ;  and  Hadrian  was  perhaps  right  in 
supposing  that  he  could  effect  more  puhlic  good  by  an 
extensive  progress  through  the  empire,  and  by  a  per- 
sonal correction  of  abuses,  than  by  any  military  enter- 
prise. It  is,  besides,  asserted,  that  he  received  an 
indemnity  in  money  for  the  provinces  beyond  the 
Euphrates.  But  still  it  remains  true,  that  in  his  reign 
the  God  Terminus  made  his  first  retrograde  motion ; 
and  this  emperor  became  naturally  an  object  of  public 
obloquy  at  Rome,  and  his  name  fell  under  the  super- 
stitious ban  of  a  fatal  tradition  connected  with  the 
foundation  of  the  capital.  The  two  Antonines,  Titus 
and  Marcus,  who  came  next  in  succession,  were  truly 
good  and  patriotic  princes  ;  perhaps  the  only  princes  in 
the  whole  series  who  combined  the  virtues  of  private 
and  of  public  life.  In  their  reigns  the  frontier  line  was 
maintained  in  its  integrity,  and  at  the  expense  of  some 
severe  fighting  under  Marcus,  who  was  a  strenuous 
general  at  the  same  time  that  he  was  a  severe  student. 
It  is,  however,  true,  as  we  observed  above,  that,  by 
allowing  a  settlement  within  the  Roman  frontier  to  a 
barbarous  people,  Marcus  Auielius  raised  the  first 
ominous  precedent   in    favor  of  those  Gothic,  Vandal, 


188  THE     CvESAKS. 

and  Frankish  hives,  who  were  as  yet  hidden  behind  a 
cloud  of  years.  Homes  had  been  obtained  by  Trans- 
Danubian  barbarians  upon  the  sacred  territory  of  Rome 
and  Caesar  :  that  fact  remained  upon  tradition  :  whilst 
the  terms  upon  which  they  had  been  obtained,  how 
much  or  how  little  connected  with  fear,  necessarily 
became  liable  to  doubt  and  to  oblivion.  Here  we  pause 
to  remark,  that  the  first  twelve  Caesars,  together  with 
Nerva,  Trajan,  Hadrian,  and  the  two  Antonines, 
making  seventeen  emperors,  compose  the  first  of  four 
nearly  equal  groups,  who  occupied  the  throne  in  suc- 
cession until  the  extinction  of  the  Western  Empire. 
And  at  this  point  be  it  observed,  —  that  is,  at  the 
termination  of  the  first  group,  —  we  take  leave  of  all 
genuine  virtue.  In  no  one  of  the  succeeding  princes, 
if  we  except  Alexander  Severus,  do  we  meet  with  any 
goodness  of  heart,  or  even  amiablcness  of  manners. 
The  best  of  the  future  emperors,  in  a  public  sense, 
were  harsh  and  repulsive  in  private  character. 

The  second  group,  as  we  have  classed  them,  termi- 
nating with  Philip  the  Arab,  commences  with  Commo- 
dus.  This  unworthy  prince,  although  the  son  of  the 
excellent  Marcus  Antoninus,  turned  out  a  monster  of 
debauchery.  At  the  moment  of  his  father's  death,  he 
was  present  in  person  at  the  head- quarters  of  the  army 
on  the  Danube,  and  of  necessity  partook  in  many  of 
their  hardships.  This  it  was  which  furnished  his  evil 
counsellors  with  their  sole    argument  for  urging  his 


THE    C2E8AE8.  189 

departure  to  the  capital.  A  council  having  been  con- 
vened, tlrr  faction  of  court  sycophants  pressed  upon 
his  attention  the  inclemency  of  the  climate,  contrasting 
it  with  the  genial  skies  and  sunny  fields  of  Italy  ;  and 
the  season,  which  happened  to  be  winter,  gave  strength 
to  their  representations.  What!  would  the  emperor 
be  content  for  ever  to  hew  out  the  frozen  water  with  an 
axe  before  he  could  assuage  his  thirst  ?  And,  again, 
the  total  want  of  fruit-trees  —  did  that  recommend  their 
present  station  as  a  fit  one  for  the  imperial  court  ? 
Commodus,  ashamed  to  found  his  objections  to  the 
station  upon  grounds  so  unsoldierly  as  these,  affected 
to  be  moved  by  political  reasons:  some  great  senatorial 
house  might  take  advantage  of  his  distance  from  home, 
—  might  seize  the  palace,  fortify  it,  and  raise  levies  in 
Italy  capable  of  sustaining  its  pretensions  to  the  throne. 
These  arguments  were  combated  by  Pompeianus,  who, 
besides  his  personal  weight  as  an  officer,  had  married 
the  eldest  sister  of  the  young  emperor.  Shame  pre- 
vailed for  the  present  with  Commodus,  and  he  dis- 
missed the  council  with  an  assurance  that  he  would 
think  farther  of  it.  The  sequel  was  easy  to  foresee. 
Orders  were  soon  issued  for  the  departure  of  the  court 
to  Rome,  and  the  task  of  managing  the  barbarians  of 
Dacia  was  delegated  to  lieutenants.  The  system  upon 
which  these  officers  executed  their  commission  was  a 
mixed  one  of  terror  and  persuasion.  Some  they  defeat- 
ed in  battle  ;  and  these  were  the  majority  ;  for  Herodian 


190  THE    C^SARS. 

says,  nXtlgeg  r<oi  QaqflaQwv  onXolg  i/aomaavjo  ;  others  they 
bribed  into  peace  by  large  sums  of  money.-  And 
no  doubt  this  last  article  in  the  policy  of  Commodus 
was  that  which  led  Gibbon  to  assign  to  this  reign  the 
first  rudiments  of  the  Roman  declension.  But  it  should 
be  remembered,  tbat,  virtually,  this  policy  was  but  the 
further  prosecution  of  that  which  had  already  been 
adopted  by  .Marcus  Aurelius.  Concessions  and  temper- 
aments of  any  sort  or  degree  showed  that  the  Pannonian 
frontier  was  in  too  formidable  a  condition  to  be  treated 
with  uncompromising  rigor.  To  aliq^ivov  dnovftsrog,  pur- 
chasing an  immunity  from  all  further  anxiety,  Commo- 
dus (as  the  historian  expresses  it)  nUvxa  ISiSo  r'u  utruiuaa 
—  conceded  all  demands  whatever.  His  journey  to 
Rome  was  one  continued  festival :  and  the  whole 
population  of  Rome  turned  out  to  welcome  him.  At 
this  period  he  was  undoubtedly  the  darling  of  the 
people  :  his  personal  beauty  was  splendid  ;  and  he  was 
connected  by  blood  with  some  of  the  greatest  nobility. 
Over  this  flattering  scene  of  hope  and  triumph  clouds 
soon  gathered  ;  with  the  mob,  indeed,  there  is  reason 
to  think  that  he  continued  a  favorite  to  the  last ;  but 
the  respectable  part  of  the  citizens  were  speedily 
disgusted  with  his  self-degradation,  and  came  to  hate 
him  even  more  than  ever  or  by  any  class  he  bad  been 
loved.  The  Roman  pride  never  shows  itself  more 
conspicuously  throughout  all  history,  than  in  the  aliena- 
tion of  heart  which  inevitably  followed  any  great  and 


THE    CjESAUS.  191 

continued  outrages  upon  liis  own  maj(  -ly,  committed 
by  their  emperor.  Cruelties  the  most  atrocious,  acts  of 
vengeance  the  most  bloody,  fatricide,  parricide,  all  were 
viewed  with  more  toleration  than  oblivion  of  his  own 
inviolable  sanctity.  Hence  we  imagine  the  wrath  with 
which  Rome  would  behold  Commodus,  under  the  eyes 
of  four  hundred  thousand  spectators,  making  himself 
a  party  to  the  contests  of  gladiators.  In  his  earlier 
exhibition  as  an  archer,  it  is  possible  that  his  matchless 
dexterity,  and  his  unerring  eye,  would  avail  to  mitigate 
the  censures :  but  when  the  Roman  Imperator  actually 
descended  to  the  arena  in  the  garb  and  equipments  of 
a  servile  prize-fighter,  and  personally  engaged  in  com- 
bat with  sucti  antagonists,  having  previously  submitted 
to  their  training  and  discipline  —  the  public  indigna- 
tion rose  to  a  height,  which  spoke  aloud  the  language 
of  encouragement  to  conspiracy  and  treason.  These 
were  not  wanting ;  three  memorable  plots  against  his 
life  were  defeated ;  one  of  them  (that  of  Maternus,  the 
robber)  accompanied  with  romantic  circumstances,44 
which  we  have  narrated  in  an  earlier  paper  of  this 
series.  Another  was  set  on  foot  by  his  eldest  sister, 
Lucilla ;  nor  did  her  close  relationship  protect  her  from 
capital  punishment.  In  that  instance,  the  immediate 
agent  of  her  purposes,  Quintianus,  a  young  man,  of 
signal  resolution  and  daring,  who  had  attempted  to  stab 
the  emperor  at  the  entrance  of  the  amphitheatre,  though 
baffled  in  his  purpose,  uttered  a  word  which  rang  con- 


192  THE    CiESA'RS. 

tinually  in  the  ears  of  Commodus,  and  poisoned  his 
peace  of  mind  for  ever.  His  vengeance,  perhaps,  was 
thus  more  effectually  accomplished  than  if  he  had  at 
once  dismissed  his  victim  from  life.  '  The  senate,'  he 
had  said,  '  send  thee  this  through  me :  '  and  hence- 
forward the  senate  was  the  object  of  unslumbering 
suspicions  to  the  emperor.  Yet  the  public  suspicions 
settled  upon  a  different  quarter ;  and  a  very  memorable 
scene  must  have  pointed  his  own  in  the  same  direction, 
supposing  that  he  had  been  previously  blind  to  his 
danger. 

On  a  day  of  great  solemnity,  when  Rome  had  as- 
sembled her  myriads  in  the  amphitheatre,  just  at  the 
very  moment  when  the  nobles,  the  magistrates,  the 
priests,  all,  in  short,  that  was  venerable  or  conse- 
crated in  the  State,  with  the  Imperator  in  their  centre, 
had  taken  their  seats,  and  were  waiting  for  the  opening 
of  the  shows,  a  stranger,  in  the  robe  of  a  philosopher, 
bearing  a  staff  in  his  hand,  (which  also  was  the  pro- 
fessional ensign45  of  a  philosopher,)  stepped  forward, 
and,  by  the  waving  of  his  hand,  challenged  the  atten- 
tion of  Commodus.  Deep  silence  ensued  :  upon  which, 
in  a  few  words,  ominous  to  the  ear  as  the  handwriting 
on  the  wall  to  the  eye  of  Belshazzar,  the  stranger 
unfolded  to  Commodus  the  instant  peril  which  menaced 
both  his  life  and  his  throne,  from  his  great  servant  Pe- 
rennius.  What  personal  purpose  of  benefit  to  himself 
this  stranger   might   have    connected  with   his  public 


TJIK     CjESAKS.  193 

warning,  or  by  whom  he  might  liave  been  suborned, 
was  never  discovered  ;  for  he  was  instantly  arrested 
by  the  agents  of  the  great  officer  whom  he  had  de- 
nounced, dragged  away  to  punishment,  and  put  to  a 
cruel  death.  Commodus  dissembled  his  panic  for  the 
present ;  but  soon  after,  having  received  undeniable 
proofs  (aa  is  alleged)  of  the  treason  imputed  to  Peren- 
nius,  in  the  shape  of  a  coin  which  had  been  struck  by 
his  son,  he  caused  the  father  to  be  assassinated  ;  and, 
on  the  same  day,  by  means  of  forged  letters,  before 
this  news  could  reach  the  son,  who  commanded  the 
Illyrian  armies,  he  lured  him  also  to  destruction,  under 
the  belief  that  he  was  obeying  the  summons  of  his 
father  to  a  private  interview  on  the  Italian  frontier. 
So  perished  those  enemies,  if  enemies  they  really 
were.  But  to  these  tragedies  succeeded  others  far 
more  comprehensive  in  their  mischief,  and  in  more 
continuous  succession  than  is  recorded  upon  any  other 
page  of  universal  history.  Rome  was  ravaged  by  a 
pestilence  —  by  a  famine  —  by  riots  amounting  to  a 
civil  war  —  by  a  dreadful  massacre  of  the  unarmed 
mob  —  by  shocks  of  earthquake  —  and,  finally,  by  a 
fire  which  consumed  the  national  bank,46  and  the  most 
sumptuous  buildings  of  the  city.  To  these  horrors, 
with  a  rapidity  characteristic  of  the  Roman  depravity, 
and  possibly  only  under  the  most  extensive  demorali- 
zation of  the  public  mind,  succeeded  festivals  of  gor- 
geous pomp,  and  amphitheatrical  exhibitions,  upon  a 
17 


194  THE    CJESARS. 

scale  of  grandeur  absolutely  unparalleled  by  all  former 
attempts.  Then  were  beheld,  and  familiarized  to  the 
eyes  of  the  Roman  mob  —  to  children  —  and  to  women, 
animals  as  yet  known  to  us,  says  Herodian,  only  in 
pictures.  Whatever  strange  or  rare  animal  could  be 
drawn  from  the  depths  of  India,  from  Siam  and  Pegu, 
or  from  the  unvisited  nooks  of  Ethiopia,  were  now 
brought  together  as  subjects  for  the  archery  of  the 
universal  lord.47  Invitations  (and  the  invitations  of 
kings  are  commands)  had  been  scattered  on  this  occa- 
sion profusely  ;  not,  as  heretofore,  to  individuals  or  to 
families — but,  as  was  in  proportion  to  the  occasion 
where  an  emperor  was  the  chief  performer,  to  nations. 
People  were  summoned  by  circles  of  longitude  and 
latitude  to  come  and  see  [dtaouptvot  a  uyj  nqortnov  ^ts 
iwQafiy.eoav  fitjTt  tjxtjxotioav  —  things  that  eye  had  not 
seen  nor  ear  heard  of]  the  specious  miracles  of  nature 
brought  together  from  arctic  and  from  tropic  deserts, 
putting  forth  their  strength,  their  speed,  or  their  beauty, 
and  glorifying  by  their  deaths  the  matchless  hand  of 
the  Roman  king.  There  was  beheld  the  lion  from 
Bilidulgerid,  and  the  leopard  from  Hindostan  —  the 
rein- deer  from  polar  latitudes  —  the  antelope  from  the 
Zaara  —  and  the  lcigh,  or  gigantic  stag,  from  Britain. 
Thither  came  the  buffalo  and  the  bison,  the  white  bull 
of  Northumberland  and  Galloway,  the  unicorn  from 
the  regions  of  Nepaul  or  Thibet,  the  rhinoceros  and 
the   river-horse   from   Senegal,    with   the   elephant  of 


the  c;ksaks.  195 

Ceylon  or  Siam.  The  ostrich  and  tlio  camelcopard, 
the  wild  ass  and  the  /(bra,  the  chamois  and  the  ibex 
of  Angora,  —  all  brought  their  tributes  of  beauty  or 
deformity  to  these  vast  aceldamaa  of  Rome  :  their 
savage  voices  ascended  in  tumultuous  uproar  to  the 
chambers  of  the  capitol  :  a  million  of  spectators  sat 
round  them :  standing  in  the  centre  was  a  single  statu- 
esque figure  —  the  imperial  sagittary,  beautiful  as  an 
Antinous,  and  majestic  as  a  Jupiter,  whose  hand  was 
so  steady  and  whose  eye  so  true,  that  he  was  never 
known  to  miss,  and  who,  in  this  accomplishment  at 
least,  was  so  absolute  in  his  excellence,  that,  as  we  are 
assured  by  a  writer  not  disposed  to  flatter  him,  the 
very  foremost  of  the  Parthian  archers  and  of  the  Mau- 
ritanian  lancers  \_Haqdvaaov  ol  Tofixqv  ixqijievreg,  xal  Mav- 
Quotwr  of  ixovrtttiv  u<nzot~\  were  not  able  to  contend  with 
him.  Juvenal,  in  a  well  known  passage  upon  the  dis- 
proportionate endings  of  illustrious  careers,  drawing 
one  of  his  examples  from  Marius,  says,  that  he  ought, 
for  his  own  glory,  and  to  make  his  end  correspondent 
to  his  life,  to  have  died  at  the  moment  when  he  de- 
scended from  his  triumphal  chariot  at  the  portals  of 
the  capitol.  And  of  Commodus,  in  like  manner,  it 
may  be  affirmed,  that,  had  lie  died  in  the  exercise  of 
his  peculiar  art,  with  a  hecatomb  of  victims  rendering 
homage  to  his  miraculous  skill,  by  the  regularity  of 
the  files  which  they  presented,  as  they  lay  stretched 
out  dying  or  dead   upon   the   arena,  —  he  would  have 


196  THE    C^SARS. 

left  a  splendid  and  characteristic  impression  of  him- 
self upon  that  nation  of  spectators  who  had  witnessed 
his  performance.  He  was  the  noblest  artist  in  his 
own  profession  that  the  world  had  seen  —  in  archery 
he  was  the  Robin  Hood  of  Rome  ;  he  Avas  in  the  very 
meridian  of  his  youth  ;   and  he  was  the  most  beautiful 

man    of  his   Own  times    [tcov    xa<)'    savrov    arSQwnuv    y.uXlti 

ivnQtntaTaro?'].  He  would  therefore  have  looked  the 
part  admirably  of  the  dying  gladiator ;  and  he  would 
have  died  in  his  natural  vocation.  But  it  was  ordered 
otherwise  ;  his  death  was  destined  to  private  malice, 
and  to  an  ignoble  hand.  And  much  obscurity  still 
rests  upon  the  motives  of  the  assassins,  though  its  cir- 
cumstances are  reported  with  unusual  minuteness  of 
detail.  One  thing  is  evident,  that  the  public  and 
patriotic  motives  assigned  by  the  perpetrators  as  the 
remote  causes  of  their  conspiracy,  cannot  have  been 
the  true  ones. 

The  grave  historian  may  sum  up  his  character  of 
Commodus  by  saying  that,  however  richly  endowed 
with  natural  gifts,  he  abused  them  all  to  bad  purposes ; 
that  he  derogated  from  his  noble  ancestors,  and  dis- 
avowed the  obligations  of  his  illustrious  name ;  and, 
as  the  climax  of  his  offences,  that  he  dishonored  the 
purple  —  ato/notg  lirvrriStvfiaaiv  —  by  the  baseness  of  his 
pursuits.  All  that  is  true,  and  more  than  that.  But 
these  considerations  were  not  of  a  nature  to  affect  his 
parasitical  attendants  very  nearly  or  keenly.     Yet  the 


THE    CJESARS.  197 

story  runs —  that  Marcia,  his  privileged  mistress,  deeply 
affected  hy  the  anticipation  of  some  further  outrages 
upon  his  high  dignity  which  he  was  then  meditating, 
had  carried  the  importunity  of  her  deprecations  too  far  ; 
that  the  irritated  emperor  had  consequently  inscribed 
her  name,  in  company  with  others,  (whom  he  had 
reason  to  tax  with  the  same  offence,  or  wjiom  he  sus- 
pected of  similar  sentiments,)  in  his  little  black  book, 
or  pocket  souvenir  of  death ;  that  this  book,  being  left 
under  the  cushion  of  a  sofa,  had  been  conveyed  into 
the  hands  of  Marcia  by  a  little  pet  boy,  called  Philo- 
Coinmodus,  who  was  caressed  equally  by  the  emperor 
and  by  Marcia ;  that  she  had  immediately  called  to  her 
aid,  and  to  the  participation  of  her  plot,  those  who 
participated  in  her  danger ;  and  that  the  proximity  of 
their  own  intended  fate  had  prescribed  to  them  an 
immediate  attempt;  the  circumstances  of  which  wrere 
these.  At  mid-day  the  emperor  was  accustomed  to 
bathe,  and  at  the  same  time  to  take  refreshments.  On 
this  occasion,  Marcia,  agreeably  to  her  custom,  pre- 
sented him  with  a  goblet  of  wine  medicated  with 
poison.  Of  this  wine,  having  just  returned  from  the 
fatigues  of  the  chase,  Commodus  drank  freely,  and 
almost  immediately  fell  into  heavy  slumbers ;  from 
which,  however,  he  was  soon  aroused  by  deadly  sick- 
ness. That  was  a  case  which  the  conspirators  had  not 
taken  into  their  calculations ;  and  they  now  began  to 
fear  that  the  violent  vomiting  which  succeeded  might 


198  THE    C.ESA.RS. 

throw  off  the  poison.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost : 
and  the  barbarous  Marcia,  who  had  so  often  slept  in 
the  arms  of  the  young  emperor,  was  the  person  to 
propose  that  he  should  now  be  strangled.  A  young 
gladiator,  named  Narcissus,  was  therefore  introduced 
into  the  room;  what  passed  is  not  known  circumstan- 
tially :  but,  .as  the  emperor  was  young  and  athletic, 
though  off  his  guard  at  the  moment,  and  under  the 
disadvantage  of  sickness,  and  as  he  had  himself  been 
regularly  trained  in  the  gladiatorial  discipline,  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that  the  vile  assassin  would  meet 
with  a  desperate  resistance.  And  thus,  after  all,  there 
is  good  reason  to  think  that  the  emperor  resigned  his 
life  in  the  character  of  a  dying  gladiator.48 

So  perished  the  eldest  and  sole  surviving  son  of  the 
great  Marcus  Antoninus ;  and  the  crown  passed  into 
the  momentary  possession  of  two  old  men,  who  reigned 
in  succession  each  for  a  few  weeks.  The  first  of  these 
was  Pertinax,  an  upright  man,  a  good  officer,  and  an 
unseasonable  reformer ;  unseasonable  for  those  times, 
but  more  so  for  himself.  Leetus,  the  ringleader  in  the 
assassination  of  Commodus,  had  been  at  that  time  the 
prsetorian  prefect  —  an  office  which  a  German  writer 
considers  as  best  represented  to  modern  ideas  by  the 
Turkish  post  of  grand  vizier.  Needing  a  protector  at 
this  moment,  he  naturally  fixed  his  eyes  upon  Pertinax 
—  as  then  holding  the  powerful  command  of  city  pre- 
fect (or  governor  of  Home).     Him  therefore  he  recom- 


TIIK    C.I  BASS.  199 

mended  to  the  soldiery  —  that  is,  to  the  praetorian 
cohorts.  The  soldiery  had  no  particular  objection  to 
the  old  general,  if  he  and  they  could  agree  upon 
terms ;  his  age  being  doubtless  appreciated  as  a  first- 
rate  recommendation,  in  a  case  where  it  insured  a 
speedy  renewal  of  the  lucrative  bargain. 

The  only  demur  arose  with  Pertinax  himself:  he 
had  been  leader  of  the  troops  in  Britain,  then  superin- 
tendent of  the  police  in  Rome,  thirdly  proconsul  in 
Africa,  and  finally  consul  and  governor  of  Rome.  In 
these  great  official  stations  he  stood  near  enough  to  the 
throne  to  observe  the  dangers  with  which  it  was  sur- 
rounded ;  and  it  is  asserted  that  he  declined  the  offered 
dignity.  But  it  is  added,  that,  finding  the  choice 
allowed  him  lay  between  immediate  death 49  and  ac- 
ceptance, he  closed  with  the  proposals  of  the  praetorian 
cohorts,  at  the  rate  of  about  ninety-six  pounds  per 
man  ;  which  largess  he  paid  by  bringing  to  sale  the 
rich  furniture  of  the  last  emperor.  The  danger  which 
usually  threatened  a  Roman  Caesar  in  such  cases  was 
—  lest  he  should  not  be  able  to  fulfil  his  contract. 
But  in  the  case  of  Pertinax  the  danger  began  from  the 
moment  when  he  had  fulfilled  it.  Conceiving  himself 
to  be  now  released  from  his  dependency,  he  com- 
menced his  reforms,  civil  as  well  as  military,  with  a 
zeal  which  alarmed  all  those  who  had  an  interest  in 
maintaining  the  old  abuses.  To  two  great  factions  he 
thus  made  himself  especially  obnoxious  —  to  the  prce- 


200  THE    CiESARS. 

torian  cohorts,  and  to  the  courtiers  under  the  last 
reign.  The  connecting  link  between  these  two  parties 
was  Lsetus,  who  belonged  personally  to  the  last,  and 
still  retained  his  influence  with  the  first.  Possibly  his 
fears  were  alarmed ;  but,  at  all  events,  his  cupidity 
was  not  satisfied.  He  conceived  himself  to  have  been 
ill  rewarded ;  and,  immediately  resorting  to  the  same 
weapons  which  he  had  used  against  Commodus,  he 
stimulated  the  praetorian  guards  to  murder  the  empe- 
ror. Three  hundred  of  them  pressed  into  the  palace : 
Pertinax  attempted  to  harangue  them,  and  to  vindicate 
himself;  but  not  being  able  to  obtain  a  hearing,  he 
folded  his  robe  about  his  head,  called  upon  Jove  the 
Avenger,  and  was  immediately  dispatched. 

The  throne  was  again  empty  after  a  reign  of  about 
eighty  days ;  and  now  came  the  memorable  scandal  of 
putting  up  the  empire  to  auction.  There  were  two 
bidders,  Sulpicianus  and  Didius  Julianus.  The  first, 
however,  at  that  time  governor  of  Rome,  lay  under  a 
weight  of  suspicion,  being  the  father-in-law  of  Per- 
tinax,  and  likely  enough  to  exact  vengeance  for  his 
murder.  He  was  besides  outbid  by  Julianus.  Sulpi- 
cian  offered  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  a 
man  to  the  guards  ;  his  rival  offered  two  hundred,  and 
assured  them  besides  of  immediate  payment ;  '  for,' 
said  he,  '  I  have  the  money  at  home,  without  need- 
ing to  raise  it  from  the  possessions  of  the  crown.' 
Upon    this    the    empire    was    knocked    down    to    the 


THE    C.ESARS.  12  0  1 

highest  bidder.  So  shocking,  however,  was  this  ar- 
rangement to  the  Roman  pride,  that  the  guards  durst 
not  leave  their  new  creation  without  military  protec- 
tion. The  resentment  of  an  unarmed  mob,  however, 
soon  ceased  to  be  of  foremost  importance ;  this  resent- 
ment extended  rapidly  to  all  the  frontiers  of  the  em- 
pire, where  the  armies  felt  that  the  praetorian  cohorts 
had  no  exclusive  title  to  give  away  the  throne,  and 
their  leaders  felt,  that,  in  a  contest  of  this  nature,  their 
own  claims  were  incomparably  superior  to  those  of  the 
present  occupant.  Three  great  candidates  therefore 
started  forward —  Septimius  Scvcrus,  who  commanded 
the  armies  in  lllyria,  Pesccnnius  Niger  in  Syria,  and 
Albinus  in  Britain.  Scvcrus,  as  the  nearest  to  Rome, 
marched  and  possessed  himself  of  that  city.  Ven- 
geance followed  upon  all  parties  concerned  in  the  late 
murder.  Julianus,  unable  to  complete  his  bargain,  had 
already  been  put  to  death,  as  a  deprecatory  offering 
to  the  approaching  army.  Severus  himself  inflicted 
death  upon  Laetus,  and  dismissed  the  praetorian  cohorts. 
Thence  marching  against  his  Syrian  rival,  Niger,  who 
had  formerly  been  his  friend,  and  who  was  not  want- 
ing in  military  skill,  he  overthrew  him  in  three  great 
battles.  Niger  fled  to  Antioch,  the  seat  of  his  late 
government,  and  was  there  decapitated.  Meantime 
Albinus,  the  British  commander-in-chief,  had  already 
been  won  over  by  the  title  of  Caesar,  or  adopted  heir 
to  the  new  Augustus.     But  the  hollowness  of  this  bribe 


202  THE    CJESARS. 

soon  became  apparent,  and  the  two  competitors  met 
to  decide  their  pretensions  at  Lyons.  In  the  great 
battle  which  followed,  Scverus  fell  from  his  horse,  and 
was  at  first  supposed  to  be  dead.  But  recovering,  he 
defeated  his  rival,  who  immediately  committed  suicide. 
Sevcrus  displayed  his  ferocious  temper  sufficiently  by 
sending  the  head  of  Albinus  to  Rome.  Other  expres- 
sions of  his  natural  character  soon  followed  :  lie  sus- 
pected strongly  that  Albinus  had  been  favored  by  the 
senate  ;  forty  of  that  body,  with  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, were  immediately  sacrificed  to  his  wrath  :  but 
he  never  forgave  the  rest,  nor  endured  to  live  upon 
terms  of  amity  amongst  them.  Quitting  Rome  in  dis- 
gust, he  employed  himself  first  in  making  war  upon  the 
Parthians,  who  had  naturally,  from  situation,  befriended 
his  Syrian  rival.  '  Their  capital  cities  he  overthrew  ; 
and  afterwards,  by  way  of  employing  his  armies,  made 
war  in  Britain.  At  the  city  of  York  he  died  ;  and  to 
his  two  sons,  Geta  and  Caracalla,  he  bequeathed,  as 
his  dying  advice,  a  maxim  of  policy,  which  sufficiently 
indicates  the  situation  of  the  empire  at  that  period ;  it 
was  this  — '  To  enrich  the  soldiery  at  any  price,  and 
to  regard  the  rest  of  their  subjects  as  so  many  ciphers.' 
But,  as  a  critical  historian  remarks,  this  was  a  short- 
sighted and  self-destroying  policy  ;  since  in  no  way  is 
the  subsistence  of  the  soldier  made  more  insecure, 
than  by  diminishing  the  general  security  of  rights  and 
property  to   those  who  are  not  soldiers,  from  whom, 


THE     C.ESARS.  203 

after  all,  the  funds  must  be  sought,  by  which  the 
soldier  himself  is  to  be  paid  and  nourished.  The 
two  sons  of  Severus,  whose  bitter  enmity  is  so  memo- 
rably put  on  record  by  their  actions,  travelled  simul- 
taneously to  Koine;  but  so  mistrustful  of  each  other, 
that  at  every  stage  the  two  princes  took  up  their 
quarters  at  different  houses.  Geta  has  obtained  the 
sympathy  of  historians,  because  he  happened  to  be 
the  victim  ;  but  there  is  reason  to  think,  that  each  of 
the  brothers  was  conspiring  against  the  other.  The 
weak  credulity,  rather  than  the  conscious  innocence, 
of  Geta,  led  to  the  catastrophe  ;  he  presented  himself 
at  a  meeting  with  his  brother  in  the  presence  of  their 
common  mother,  and  was  murdered  by  Caracalla  in 
his  mother's  arms.  lie  was,  however,  avenged ;  the 
horrors  of  that  tragedy,  and  remorse  for  the  twenty 
thousand  murders  which  had  followed,  never  forsook 
the  guilty  Caracalla.  Quitting  Rome,  but  pursued  into 
every  region  by  the  bloody  image  of  his  brother,  the 
emperor  henceforward  led  a  wandering  life  at  the 
head  of  his  legions  ;  but  never  was  there  a  better  illus- 
tration of  the  poet's  maxim  that 

'  Remorse  is  as  the  mind  in  which  it  grows  : 
If  that  be  gentle,'  &c. 

For  the  remorse  of  Caracalla  put  on  no  shape  of 
repentance.  On  the  contrary,  he  carried  anger  and 
oppression  wherever  he  moved  ;  and  protected  him- 
self from  plots  only  by  living  in  the  very  centre    of  a 


204  THE    C.ESARS. 

nomadic  camp.  Six  years  had  passed  away  in  this 
manner,  when  a  mere  accident  led  to  his  assassination. 
For  the  sake  of  security,  the  office  of  praetorian  prefect 
had  heen  divided  hctween  two  commissioners,  one  for 
military  affairs,  the  other  for  civil.  The  latter  of  these 
two  officers  was  Opilius  Macrinus.  This  man  has,  by 
some  historians,  been  supposed  to  have  harbored  no 
bad  intentions  ;  but,  unfortunately,  an  astrologer  had 
foretold  that  he  was  destined  to  the  throne.  The 
prophet  was  laid  in  irons  at  Rome,  and  letters  were 
dispatched  to  Caracalla,  apprising  him  of  the  case. 
These  letters,  as  yet  unopened,  were  transferred  by 
the  emperor,  then  occupied  in  witnessing  a  race,  to 
Macrinus,  who  thus  became  acquainted  with  the  whole 
grounds  of  suspicion  against  himself,  —  grounds  which, 
to  the  jealousy  of  the  emperor,  he  well  knew  would 
appear  substantial  proofs.  Upon  this  he  resolved  to 
anticipate  the  emperor  in  the  work  of  murder.  The 
head-quarters  were  then  at  Edessa ;  and  upon  his 
instigation,  a  disappointed  centurion,  named  Martialis, 
animated  also  by  revenge  for  the  death  of  his  brother, 
undertook  to  assassinate  Caracalla.  An  opportunity 
soon  offered,  on  a  visit  which  the  prince  made  to  the 
celebrated  temple  of  the  moon  at  Carrha?.  The  attempt 
was  successful  :  the  emperor  perished  ;  but  Martialis 
paid  the  penalty  of  his  crime  in  the  same  hour,  being 
shot  by  a  Scythian  archer  of  the  body-guard. 

Macrinus,     after    three     days'    interregnum,     being 


mi.    i  v.-vvrs.  205 

elected  emperor,  began  his  reign  by  purchasing  a 
peace  from  the  Partbians.  What  the  empire  chiefly 
needed  at  this  moment,  is  evident  from  the  next  step 
taken  by  this  emperor.  He  labored  to  restore  the 
ancient  discipline  of  the  armies  in  all  its  rigor.  He 
was  aware  of  the  risk  he  ran  in  this  attempt ;  and  that 
he  was  so,  is  the  best  evidence  of  the  strong  necessity 
which  existed  for  reform.  Perhaps,  however,  he  might 
have  surmounted  his  difficulties  and  dangers,  had  he 
met  with  no  competitor  round  whose  person  the  military 
malcontents  could  rally.  But  such  a  competitor  soon 
arose  ;  and,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  the  world,  in  the 
person  of  a  Syrian.  The  Emperor  Scverus,  on  losing 
his  first  wife,  had  resolved  to  strengthen  the  pretensions 
of  his  family  by  a  second  marriage  with  some  lady 
having  a  regal  '  genesis,'  that  is,  whose  horoscope 
promised  a  regal  destiny.  Julia  Domna,  a  native  of 
Syria,  offered  him  this  dowry,  and  she  became  the 
mother  of  Geta.  A  sister  of  this  Julia,  called  Moosa, 
had,  through  two  different  daughters,  two  grandsons  — 
Heliogabalus  and  Alexander  Severus.  The  mutineers 
of  the  army  rallied  around  the  first  of  these  ;  a  battle 
was  fought ;  and  Macrinus,  with  his  son  Diadumeni- 
anus,  whom  he  had  adopted  to  the  succession,  Avere 
captured  and  put  to  death.  Heliogabalus  succeeded, 
and  reigned  in  the  monstrous  manner  which  has  ren- 
dered his  name  infamous  in  history.  In  what  way, 
however,  he  lost  the  affections  of  the  army,  has  never 


206  THE    CAESARS. 

been  explained.  His  mother,  Sooemias,  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Moesa,  had  represented  herself  as  the 
concubine  of  Caracalla ;  and  Heliogabalus,  being  thus 
accredited  as  the  son  of  that  emperor,  whose  memory 
was  dear  to  the  soldiery,  had  enjoyed  the  full  benefit 
of  that  descent,  nor  can  it  be  readily  explained  how  he 
came  to  lose  it. 

Here,  in  fact,  we  meet  with  an  instance  of  that 
dilemma  which  is  so  constantly  occurring  in  the  history 
of  the  Caesars.  If  a  prince  is  by  temperament  dis- 
posed to  severity  of  manners,  and  naturally  seeks  to 
impress  his  own  spirit  upon  the  composition  and  disci- 
pline of  the  army,  we  are  sure  to  find  that  he  was  cut 
off  in  his  attempts  by  private  assassination  or  by  public 
rebellion.  On  the  other  hand,  if  he  wallows  in  sen- 
suality, and  is  careless  about  all  discipline,  civil  or 
military,  we  then  find  as  commonly  that  he  loses  the 
esteem  and  affections  of  the  army  to  some  rival  of 
severer  habits.  And  in  the  midst  of  such  oscillations, 
and  with  examples  of  such  contradictory  interpretation, 
we  cannot  wonder  that  the  Roman  princes  did  not 
oftener  take  warning  by  the  misfortunes  of  their  pre- 
decessors. In  the  present  instance,  Alexander,  the 
cousin  of  Heliogabalus,  without  intrigues  of  his  own, 
and  simply  (as  it  appears)  by  the  purity  and  sobriety 
of  his  conduct,  had  alienated  the  affections  of  the  army 
from  the  reigning  prince.  Either  jealousy  or  prudence 
had  led  Heliogabalus   to  make   an  attempt  upon  his 


THE    C.S8ABS.  207 

rival's  life;   and  this  attempt  had   nearly  cost  him  his 

own  through  the  mutiny  which  it  caused.  In  a  second 
uproar,  produced  hy  some  fresh  intrigues  of  the  em- 
peror against  his  cousin,  the  soldiers  became  unman- 
ageable, and  they  refused  to  pause  until  they  had 
massacred  Heliogabalus,  together  with  his  mother,  and 
raised  his  cousin  Alexander  to  the  throne. 

The  reforms  of  this  prince,  who  reigned  under  the 
name  of  Alexander  Sevcrus,  were  extensive  and  search- 
ing ;  not  only  in  his  court,  which  he  purged  of  all 
notorious  abuses,  but  throughout  the  economy  of  the 
army.  He  cashiered,  upon  one  occasion,  an  entire 
legion  ;  he  rcstoi-ed,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  the  ancient 
discipline ;  and,  above  all,  he  liberated  the  provinces 
from  military  spoliation.  '  Let  the  soldier,'  said,  he, 
'  be  contented  with  his  pay ;  and  whatever  more  he 
wants,  let  him  obtain  it  by  victory  from  the  enemy, 
not  by  pillage  from  his  fellow-subject.'  But  whatever 
might  be  the  value  or  extent  of  his  reforms  in  the 
marching  regiments,  Alexander  could  not  succeed  in 
binding  the  pru'torian  guards  to  his  yoke.  Under  the 
guardianship  of  his  mother  Mammrca,  the  conduct  of 
state  affairs  had  been  submitted  to  a  council  of  sixteen 
persons,  at  the  head  of  which  stood  the  celebrated 
Ulpian.  To  this  minister  the  praetorians  imputed  the 
reforms,  and  perhaps  the  whole  spirit  of  reform ;  for 
they  pursued  him  with  a  vengeance  which  is  else  hardly 
to  be  explained.      Many  days  was  Ulpian  protected  by 


208  THE    CiESARS. 

the  citizens  of  Rome,  until  the  whole  city  was  threat- 
ened with  conflagration ;  he  then  fled  to  the  palace  of 
the  young  emperor,  who  in  vain  attempted  to  save  him 
from  his  pursuers  under  the  shelter  of  the  imperial 
purple.  Ulpian  was  murdered  before  his  eyes ;  nor 
was  it  found  possible  to  punish  the  ringleader  in  this 
foul  conspiracy,  until  he  had  been  removed  by  some- 
thing like  treachery  to  a  remote  government. 

Meantime,  a  great  revolution  and  change  of  dynasty 
had  been  effected  in  Parthia ;  the  line  of  the  Arsacidae 
was  terminated ;  the  Parthian  empire  was  at  an  end ; 
and  the  sceptre  of  Persia  was  restored  under  the  new 
race  of  the  Sassanides.  Artaxerxes,  the  first  prince 
of  this  race,  sent  an  embassy  of  four  hundred  select 
knights,  enjoining  the  Roman  emperor  to  content  him- 
self with  Europe,  and  to  leave  Asia  to  the  Persians. 
In  the  event  of  a  refusal,  the  ambassadors  were  in- 
structed to  offer  a  defiance  to  the  Roman  prince.  Upon 
such  an  insult,  Alexander  could  not  do  less,  with  either 
safety  or  dignity,  than  to  prepare  for  war.  It  is  prob- 
able, indeed,  that,  by  this  expedition,  which  drew  off 
the  minds  of  the  soldiery  from  brooding  upon  the  re- 
forms which  offended  them,  the  life  of  Alexander  was 
prolonged.  But  the  expedition  itself  was  mismanaged, 
or  was  unfortunate.  This  result,  however,  does  not 
seem  chargeable  upon  Alexander.  All  the  preparations 
were  admirable  on  the  march,  and  up  to  the  enemy's 
frontier.     The  invasion  it  was,  which,  in  a  strategic 


tin;  c.isAits.  209 

sense,  seems  to  have  been  ill  combined.  Three  armies 
were  to  have  entered  Persia  simultaneously  :  one  of 
these,  which  was  destined  to  act  on  a  flank  of  the 
general  line,  entangled  itself  in  the  marshy  grounds 
near  Babylon,  and  was  cut  off  by  the  archery  of  an 
enemy  whom  it  could  not  reach.  The  other  wing, 
acting  upon  ground  impracticable  for  the  manoeuvres 
of  the  Persian  cavalry,  and  supported  by  Chosroes  the 
king  of  Armenia,  gave  great  trouble  to  Artaxerxes, 
and,  with  adequate  support  from  the  other  armies, 
would  doubtless  have  been  victorious.  But  the  central 
army,  under  the  conduct  of  Alexander  in  person, 
discouraged  by  the  destruction  of  one  entire  wing, 
remained  stationary  in  Mesopotamia  throughout  the 
summer,  and,  at  the  close  of  the  campaign,  was  with- 
drawn to  Antioch,  re  infectd.  It  has  been  observed 
that  great  mystery  hangs  over  the  operations  and  issue 
of  this  short  war.  Thus  much,  however,  is  evident, 
that  nothing  but  the  previous  exhaustion  of  the  Persian 
king  saved  the  Roman  armies  from  signal  discomfiture  ; 
and  even  thus  there  is  no  ground  for  claiming  a  vic- 
tory (as  most  historians  do)  to  the  Roman  arms.  Any 
termination  of  the  Persian  war,  however,  whether 
glorious  or  not,  was  likely  to  be  personally  injurious 
to  Alexander,  by  allowing  leisure  to  the  soldiery  for 
recurring  to  their  grievances.  Sensible,  no  doubt,  of 
this,  Alexander  was  gratified  by  the  occasion  which 
then  arose  for  repressing  the  hostile  movements  of  the 
18 


210  THE    C.ESARS. 

Germans.  He  led  his  army  off  upon  this  expedition ; 
hut  their  temper  was  gloomy  and  threatening ;  and  at 
length,  after  reaching  the  seat  of  war,  at  Mentz,  an 
open  mutiny  hrokc  out  under  the  guidance  of  Maximin, 
which  terminated  in  the  murder  of  the  emperor  and 
his  mother.  By  Herodian  the  discontents  of  the  army 
are  referred  to  the  ill  management  of  the  Persian 
campaign,  and  the  unpromising  commencement  of  the 
new  war  in  Germany.  But  it  seems  probable  that  a 
dissolute  and  wicked  army,  like  that  of  Alexander,  had 
not  murmured  under  the  too  little,  but  the  too  much 
of  military  service ;  not  the  buying  a  truce  with  gold 
seems  to  have  offended  them,  but  the  having  led  them 
at  all  upon  an  enterprise  of  danger  and  hardship. 

Maximin  succeeded,  whose  feats  of  strength,  when 
he  first  courted  the  notice  of  the  Emperor  Severus, 
have  been  described  by  Gibbon.  He  was  at  that 
period  a  Thracian  peasant ;  since  then  he  had  risen 
gradually  to  high  offices ;  but,  according  to  historians, 
he  retained  his  Thracian  brutality  to  the  last.  That 
may  have  been  true ;  but  one  remark  must  be  made 
upon  this  occasion ;  Maximin  was  especially  opposed 
to  the  senate ;  and,  wherever  that  was  the  case,  no 
justice  was  done  to  an  emperor.  Why  it  was  that 
Maximin  would  not  ask  for  the  confirmation  of  his 
election  from  the  senate,  has  never  been  explained  ;  it 
is  said  that  he  anticipated  a  rejection.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  seems  probable  that  the  senate  supposed 


THE    CESARS.  211 

its  sanction  to  be  despised.     Nothing,  apparently,  but 
this  reciprocal  reserve   in  making  approaches   to  each 
other,  was   the  cause   of  all  the   bloodshed  which  fol- 
lowed.   The  two  Gordians,  who  commanded  in  Africa, 
weie  set    up  by  the  senate  against    the  new  emperor; 
and    the  consternation   of  that  body   must  have  been 
great,   when  these  champions  were  immediately  over- 
thrown and  killed.      They  did  not,  however,  despair : 
substituting  the  two  governors  of  Rome,  Pupienus  and 
Balbinus,  and   associating  to   them  the   younger  Gor- 
dian,  they  resolved  to  make  a  stand  ;   for  the  severities 
of  Maximin  had  by  this  time  manifested  that  it  was  a 
contest   of  extermination.      Meantime,    Maximin  had 
broken  up  from  Sirmium,  the  capital  of  Pannonia,  and 
had    advanced     to    Aquileia,  —  that    famous     fortress, 
which  in  every  invasion  of  Italy  was  the  first  object  of 
attack.     The  senate  had  set  a  price  upon  his  head ; 
but  there  was  every  probability  that  he   would  have 
triumphed,  had  he  not  disgusted  his  army  by  immod- 
erate severities.     It  was,  however,  but  reasonable  that 
those,  who  would  not  support  the  strict  but  ecpiitable 
discipline  of  the  mild  Alexander,  should  suffer  under 
the  barbarous  and  capricious  rigor  of  Maximin.     That 
rigor  was  his  ruin :   sunk  and   degraded  as  the  senate 
WBS,  and   now    but  the  shadow  of  a   mighty  name,  it 
was   found   on   this  occasion  to  have  long  arms  when 
supported  by  the  frenzy  of  its  opponent.     Whatever 
might   be   the   real   weakness   of  this   body,  the   rude 


212  THE    CESARS. 

soldiers  yet  felt  a  blind  traditionary  veneration  for  its 
sanction,  when  prompting  them  as  patriots  to  an  act 
which  their  own  multiplied  provocations  had  but  too 
much  recommendod  to  their  passions.  A  party  entered 
the  tent  of  Maximin,  and  dispatched  him  with  the  same 
unpitying  haste  which  he  had  shown  under  similar 
circumstances  to  the  gentle-minded  Alexander.  Aqui- 
leia  opened  her  gates  immediately,  and  thus  made  it 
evident  that  the  war  had  been  personal  to  Maximin. 

A  scene  followed  within  a  short  time  which  is  in 
the  highest  degree  interesting.  The  senate,  in  creating 
two  emperors  at  once  (for  the  boy  Gordian  was  prob- 
ably associated  to  them  only  by  way  of  masking  their 
experiment),  had  made  it  evident  that  their  purpose 
was  to  restore  the  republic  and  its  two  consuls.  This 
was  their  meaning ;  and  the  experiment  had  now  been 
twice  repeated.  The  army  saw  through  it ;  as  to  the 
double  number  of  emperors,  that  was  of  little  conse- 
quence, farther  than  as  it  expressed  their  intention,  viz. 
by  bringing  back  the  consular  government,  to  restore 
the  power  of  the  senate,  and  to  abrogate  that  of  the 
army.  The  praetorian  troops,  who  were  the  most 
deeply  interested  in  preventing  this  revolution,  watched 
their  opportunity,  and  attacked  the  two  emperors  in 
the  palace.  The  deadly  feud,  which  had  already 
arisen  between  them,  led  each  to  suppose  himself  under 
assault  from  the  other.  The  mistake  was  not  of  long 
duration.     Carried  into  the  streets  of  Rome,  they  were 


HIE    C.*:SARS.  L'13 

both  put  to  death,  and  treated  with  monstrous  indigni- 
ties. The  young  Gordian  was  adopted  by  the  soldiery. 
It  seems  odd  that  even  thus  far  the  guards  should 
sanction  the  choice  of  the  senate,  having  the  purposes 
which  they  had  ;  but  perhaps  Gordian  had  recom- 
mended himself  to  their  favor  in  a  degree  which  might 
outweigh  what  they  considered  the  original  vice  of  his 
appointment,  and  his  youth  promised  them  an  imme- 
diate impunity.  This  prince,  however,  like  so  many 
of  his  predecessors  soon  came  to  an  unhappy  end. 
Under  the  guardianship  of  the  upright  Misitheus,  for 
a  time  he  prospered  ;  and  preparations  were  made 
upon  a  great  scale  for  the  energetic  administration  of 
a  Persian  war.  But  Misitheus  died,  perhaps  by  poison, 
in  the  course  of  the  campaign  ;  and  to  him  succeeded, 
as  praetorian  prefect,  an  Arabian  officer,  called  Philip. 
The  innocent  boy,  left  without  friends,  was  soon  re- 
moved by  murder  ;  and  a  monument  was  afterwards 
erected  to  his  memory,  at  the  junction  of  the  Aboras 
and  the  Euphrates.  Great  obscurity,  however,  clouds 
this  part  of  history  ;  nor  is  it  so  much  as  known  in 
what  way  the  Persian  war  was  conducted  or  termi- 
nated. 

Philip,  having  made  himself  emperor,  celebrated, 
upon  his  arrival  in  Rome,  the  secular  games,  in  the 
year  247  of  the  Christian  era  —  that  being  the  comple- 
tion of  a  thousand  years  from  the  foundation  of  Pome. 
But  Nemesis  was  already  on  his  steps.     An  insurrec- 


214  THE    C.ESAES. 

tion  had  broken  out  amongst  the  legions  stationed  in 
Mcesia ;  and  they  had  raised  to  the  purple  some  officer 
of  low  rank.     Philip,  having  occasion  to   notice  this 
affair  in  the  senate,  received  for  answer  from  Decius, 
that    probably,  the    pseudo-imperator   would  prove  a 
mere  evanescent  phantom.     This  conjecture  was  con- 
firmed ;    and  Philip  in  consequence  conceived  a  high 
opinion  of  Decius,  whom  (as  the  insurrection  still  con- 
tinued) he  judged  to  be  the  fittest  man  for  appeasing 
it.     Decius  accordingly  went,  armed  with   the  proper 
authority.      But    on   his    arrival,    he     found    himself 
compelled  by  the  insurgent  army   to  choose  between 
empire  and  death.     Thus  constrained,  he  yielded  to 
the  wishes  of  the  troops  ;  and  then  hastening  with  a 
vereran   army  into    Italy,    he     fought    the    battle    of 
Verona,  where  Philip  was  defeated  and  killed,  whilst 
the  son  of  Philip  was  murdered  at  Rome  by  the  praeto- 
rian guards. 

With  Philip,  ends,  according  to  our  distribution, 
the  second  series  of  the  Caesars,  comprehending 
Commodus,  Pertinax,  Didius  Julianus,  Septimius, 
Severus,  Caracalla  and  Geta,  Macrinus,  Heliogabalus, 
Alexander  Severus,  Maximin,  the  two  Gordians, 
Pupicnus  and  Balbinus,  the  third  Gordian,  and  Philip 
the  Arab. 

In  looking  back  at  this  series  of  Caesars,  we  are 
horror-struck  at  the  blood-stained  picture.  Well  might 
a  foreign  writer,  in   reviewing   the    same    succession, 


tin:    CJB8A.E8.  215 

declare,  that  it  is  like  passing  into  a  new  world  when 
the  transition  is  made  from  this  chapter  of  the  human 
history  to  that  of  modern  Europe.  From  Commodus 
to  Decius  are  sixteen  names,  which,  spread  through 
a  space  of  fifty-nine  years,  assign  to  each  Ciesar  a 
reign  of  less  than  four  years.  And  Casauhcn  remarks, 
that,  in  one  period  of  1G0  years,  there  were  seventy 
persons  who  assumed  the  Iloman  purple  ;  which  gives 
to  each  not  nnich  more  than  two  years.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  the  history  of  France,  we  find  that,  through 
a  period  of  1200  years,  there  have  heen  no  more  than 
sixty-four  kings :  upon  an  average,  therefore,  each 
king  appears  to  have  enjoyed  a  reign  of  nearly  nine- 
teen years.  This  vast  difference  in  security  is  due  to 
two  great  principles,  —  that  of  primogeniture  as  be- 
tween son  and  son,  and  of  hereditary  succession  as 
between  a  son  and  every  other  pretender.  Well  may 
we  hail  the  principle  of  hereditary  right  as  realizing 
the  praise  of  Burke  applied  to  chivalry,  viz.,  that  it  is 
'  the  cheap  defence  of  nations  ;  '  for  the  security  which 
is  thus  obtained,  be  it  recollected,  does  not  regard  a 
a  small  succession  of  princes,  but  the  whole  rights  and 
interests  of  social  man  :  since  the  contests  for  the 
rights  of  belligerent  rivals  do  not  respect  themselves 
only,  hut  very  often  spread  ruin  and  proscription 
amongst  all  orders  of  men.  The  principle  of  hered- 
itary succession,  says  one  writer,  had  it  been  a  dis- 
covery  of  any   one    individual,  would   deserve   to   be 


216  THE    C^SARS. 

considered  as  the  very  greatest  ever  made ;  and  he 
adds  acutely,  in  answer  to  the  obvious,  but  shallow 
objection  to  it  (viz.,  its  apparent  assumption  of  equal 
ability  for  reigning  in  father  and  son  for  ever),  that  it 
is  like  the  Copernican  system  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
—  contradictory  to  our  sense  and  first  impressions,  but 
true  notwithstanding. 


THE    C2ESA.RS.  217 


CHAPTER   VI. 

To  return,  however,  to   our   sketch   of  the  Caesars. 
At  the  head  of  the  third  series  we  place  Decius.     He 
came  to  the  throne  at  a  moment  of  great  puhlic  embar- 
rassment.    The  Goths  were  now   beginning  to  press 
southwards  upon  the  empire.      Dacia  they  had  ravaged 
for  some    time  ;    '  and  here,'   says  a  German    writer, 
'  observe  the  short-sightedness  of  the  Emperor  Trajan. 
Had  he  left  the  Dacians  in  possession  of  their  indepen- 
dence,   they   would,  under    their    native    kings,    have 
made  head  against  the  Goths.     But,  being  compelled 
to  assume  the  character  of  Roman   citizens,  they  had 
lost  their  warlike  qualities.'     From  Dacia  the  Goths 
had  descended  upon  Mcesia  ;  and,  passing  the  Danube, 
they  laid  siege  to  Marcianopolis,  a  city  built  by  Trajan 
in  honor  of  his  sister.     The  inhabitants  paid  a  heavy 
ransom  for  their  town  ;   and  the  Goths  were  persuaded 
for  the  present  to  return  home.     But  sooner  than  was 
expected,  they  returned   to   Mcesia,  under  their  king, 
Kniva  ;   and  they  were  already  engaged  in  the  siege  of 
Nicopolis,  when  Decius   came  in  sight  at  the  head  of 
the  Roman  army.     The  Goths  retired,  but  it  was  to 
Thrace  ;    and,  in  the  conquest  of  Philippopolis,  they 
found  an  ample  indemnity  for  their  forced  retreat  and 
19 


218  THE    C^SARS. 

disappointment.  Decius  pursued,  but  the  king  of  the 
Goths  turned  suddenly  upon  him  ;  the  emperor  was 
obliged  to  fly  ;  the  Roman  camp  was  plundered  ; 
Philippopolis  was  taken  by  storm  ;  and  its  whole 
population,  reputed  at  more  than  a  hundred  thousand 
souls,  destroyed. 

Such  was  the  first  great  irruption  of  the  barbarians 
into  the  Roman  territory  :  and  panic  was  diffused  on 
the  wings  of  the  wind  over  the  whole  empire.  Decius, 
however,  was  firm,  and  made  prodigious  efforts  to 
restore  the  balance  of  power  to  its  ancient  condition. 
For  the  moment  he  had  some  partial  successes.  He 
cut  off  several  detachments  of  Goths,  on  their  road  to 
reinforce  the  enemy  ;  and  he  strengthened  the  for- 
tresses and  garrisons  of  the  Danube.  But  his  last 
success  was  the  means  of  his  total  ruin.  He  came  up 
with  the  Goths  at  Forum  Terebronii,  and,  having  sur- 
rounded their  position,  their  destruction  seemed  inevi- 
table. A  great  battle  ensued,  and  a  mighty  victory  to 
the  Goths.  Nothing  is  now  known  of  the  circum- 
stances, except  that  the  third  line  of  the  Romans  was 
entangled  inextricably  in  a  morass  (as  had  happened 
in  the  Persian  expedition  of  Alexander).  Decius 
perished  on  this  occasion  —  nor  was  it  possible  to  find 
his  dead  body.  This  great  defeat  naturally  raised  the 
authority  of  the  senate,  in  the  same  proportion  as  it 
depressed  that  of  the  army  ;  and  by  the  will  of  that 
body,  Hostilianus,  a  son  of  Decius,  was  raised  to  the 


T1IK    C.I. SAKS.  219 

empire  ;  and  ostensibly  on  account  of  his  youth,  but 
really  with  a  view  to  their  standing  policy  of  restoring 
the  consulate,  and  the  whole  machinery  of  the  republic, 
Gallus,  an  experienced  commander,  was  associated  in 
the  empire.  But  no  skill  or  experience  could  avail  to 
retrieve  the  sinking  power  of  Home  upon  the  lllyrian 
frontier.  The  Roman  army  was  disorganized,  panic- 
stricken,  reduced  to  skeleton  battalions.  Without  an 
army,  what  could  be  done  ?  And  thus  it  may  really 
have  been  no  blame  to  Gallus,  that  he  made  a  treaty 
with  the  Goths  more  degrading  than  any  previous  act 
in  the  long  annals  of  Rome.  By  the  terms  of  this 
infamous  bargain,  they  were  allowed  to  carry  off  an 
immense  booty,  amongst  which  was  a  long  roll  of 
distinguished  prisoners  ;  and  Csesar  himself  it  was  — 
not  any  lieutenant  or  agent  that  might  have  been  after- 
wards disavowed  —  who  volunteered  to  purchase  their 
future  absence  by  an  annual  tribute.  The  very  army 
which  had  brought  their  emperor  into  the  necessity  of 
submitting  to  such  abject  concessions,  were  the  first  to 
be  offended  with  this  natural  result  of  their  own  failures. 
Gallus  \v;ts  already  ruined  in  public  opinion,  when  fur- 
ther accumulations  arose  to  his  disgrace.  It  was  now 
supposed  to  have  been  discovered,  that  the  late  dread- 
ful defeat  of  Forum  Terebronii  was  due  to  his  bad 
advice  ;  and,  as  the  young  Hostilianus  happened  to  die 
about  this  time  of  a  contagious  disorder,  Gallus  was 
charged   with  his   murder,      liven  a  ray  of  prosperity 


220  THE    C^SARS. 

which  just  now  gleamed  upon  the  Roman  arms,  aggra- 
vated the  disgrace  of  Gallus,  and  was  instantly  made 
the  handle  of  his  ruin.  JEmilianus,  the  governor  of 
Mcesia  and  Pannonia,  inflicted  some  check  or  defeat 
upon  the  Goths  ;  and  in  the  enthusiasm  of  sudden 
pride,  upon  an  occasion  which  contrasted  so  advan- 
tageously for  himself  with  the  military  conduct  of 
Decius  and  Gallus,  the  soldiers  of  his  own  legion  raised 
^Emilianus  to  the  purple.  No  time  was  to  be  lost. 
Summoned  by  the  troops,  iEmilianus  marched  into 
Italy  ;  and  no  sooner  had  he  made  his  appearance 
there,  than  the  praetorian  guards  murdered  the  Emperor 
Gallus  and  his  son  Volusianus,  by  way  of  confirming 
the  election  of  .<3Emilianus.  The  new  emperor  offered 
to  secure  the  frontiers,  both  in  the  east  and  on  the 
Danube,  from  the  incursions  of  the  barbarians.  This 
offer  may  be  regarded  as  thrown  out  for  the  conciliation 
of  all  classes  in  the  empire.  But  to  the  senate  in  par- 
ticular he  addressed  a  message,  which  forcibly  illus- 
trates the  political  position  of  that  body  in  those  times. 
iEmilianus  proposed  to  resign  the  whole  civil  adminis- 
tration into  the  hands  of  the  senate,  reserving  to  himself 
the  only  unenviable  burthen  of  the  military  interests. 
His  hope  was,  that  in  this  way  making  himself  in  part 
the  creation  of  the  senate,  he  might  strengthen  his  title 
against  competitors  at  Rome,  whilst  the  entire  military 
administration  going  on  under  his  own  eyes,  exclusively 
directed  to  that  one  object,  would  give  him  some  chance 


THE    C£SARS.  221 

of  defeating  the  hasty  and  tumultuary  competitions  so 
apt  to  arise  amongst  the  legions  upon  the  frontier.     We 
notice  the  transaction  chiefly  as  indicating  the  anoma- 
lous   situation   of   the    senate.     "Without    power  in  a 
proper  sense,  or  no  more,  however,  than  the  indirect 
power  of  wealth,  that  ancient  body  retained  an  immense 
auctoritas  —  that  is,  an  influence   built  upon  ancient 
reputation,  which,  in  their  case,  had  the  strength  of  a 
religious  superstition  in  all  Italian  minds.     This  influ- 
ence the  senators  exerted  with  effect,    whenever   the 
course  of  events  had  happened  to  reduce  the  power  of 
the  army.     And  never  did  they  make  a  more  continu- 
ous  and  sustained  effort  for  retrieving  their  ancient 
power  and  place,  together  with  the  whole  system  of 
the  republic,  than  during  the  period  at  which  we  are 
now  arrived.     From  the  time  of  Maximin,  in  fact,  to 
the  accession  of  Aurclian,  the  senate  perpetually  inter- 
posed their  credit   and   authority,  like  some  Deus  ex 
machina  in  the  dramatic  art.    And  if  this  one  fact  were 
all  that  had  survived  of  the  public  annals  at  this  period, 
we  might  sufficiently  collect  the  situation  of  the  two 
other  parties  in  the  empire  —  the  army  and  the  impe- 
rator ;  the  weakness  and  precarious  tenure  of  the  one, 
and  the  anarchy  of  the  other.     And  hence  it  is  that 
we  can    explain   the   hatred   borne   to  the    senate  by 
vigorous  emperors,  such  as  Aurclian,  succeeding  to  a 
long  course  of  weak  and  troubled  reigns.     Such  an 
emperor    presumed  in    the    senate,    and    not   without 


222  THE    CjESARS. 

reason,  the  same  spirit  of  domineering  interference  as 
ready  to  manifest  itself,  upon  any  opportunity  offered, 
against  himself,  which,  in  his  earlier  days,  he  had 
witnessed  so  repeatedly  in  successful  operation  upon 
the  fates  and  prospects  of  others. 

The  situation  indeed  of  the  world  —  that  is  to  say,  of 
that  great  centre  of  civilization,  which,  running  round 
the  Mediterranean  in  one  continuous  belt  of  great 
breadth,  still  composed  the  Roman  Empire,  was  at  this 
time  most  profoundly  interesting.  The  crisis  had 
arrived.  In  the  East,  a  new  dynasty  (the  Sassanides) 
had  remoulded  ancient  elements  into  a  new  form,  and 
breathed  a  new  life  into  an  empire,  which  else  was 
gradually  becoming  crazy  of  age,  and  which,  at  any 
rate,  by  losing  its  unity,  must  have  lost  its  vigor  as  an 
offensive  power.  Parthia  was  languishing  and  droop- 
ing as  an  anti-Roman  state,  when  the  last  of  the  Arsa- 
cidse  expired.  A  perfect  Palingenesis  was  wrought 
by  the  restorer  of  the  Persian  empire,  which  pretty 
nearly  re-occupied  (and  gloried  in  re-occupying)  the 
very  area  that  had  once  composed  the  empire  of  Cyrus. 
Even  this  Palingenesis  might  have  terminated  in  a 
divided  empire :  vigor  might  have  been  restored,  but 
in  the  shape  of  a  polyarchy  (such  as  the  Saxons  estab- 
lished in  England),  rather  than  a  monarchy ;  and  in 
reality,  at  one  moment  that  appeared  to  be  a  probable 
event.  Now,  had  this  been  the  course  of  the  revolu- 
tion, an  alliance  with  one  of  these  kingdoms  would 


THE    C.3ESAKS.  223 

have  tended  to  balance  the  hostility  of  another  (as  was 
in  fact  the  case  when  Alexander  Sevcrus  saved  himself 
from  the  Persian  power  by  a  momentary  alliance  with 
Armenia).  Hut  all  the  elements  of  disorder  had  in 
that  quarter  re-combined  themselves  into  severe  unity  : 
and  thus  was  Rome,  upon  her  eastern  frontier,  laid 
open  to  a  new  power  of  juvenile  activity  and  vigor, 
just  at  the  period  when  the  languor  of  the  decaying 
Parthian  had  allowed  the  Roman  discipline  to  fall  into 
a  corresponding  declension.  Such  was  the  condition  of 
Rome  upon  her  oriental  frontier.50  On  the  northern, 
it  was  much  worse.  Precisely  at  the  crisis  of  a  great 
revolution  in  Asia,  which  demanded  in  that  quarter 
more  than  the  total  strength  of  the  empire,  and  threat- 
ened to  demand  it  for  ages  to  come,  did  the  Goths, 
under  their  earliest  denomination  of  Getce,  with  many 
other  associate  tribes,  begin  to  push  with  their  horns 
against  the  northern  gates  of  the  empire ;  the  whole 
line  of  the  Danube,  and,  pretty  nearly  about  the 
same  time,  of  the  Rhine,  (upon  which  the  tribes 
from  Swabia,  Bavaria,  and  Franconia,  were  beginning 
to  descend,)  now  became  insecure ;  and  these  two 
rivers  ceased  in  effect  to  be  the  barriers  of  Rome. 
Taking  a  middle  point  of  time  between  the  Parthian 
revolution  and  the  fatal  overthrow  of  Forum  Tcre- 
bronii,  we  may  fix  upon  the  reign  of  Philip  the  Arab 
[who  naturalized  himself  in  Rome  by  the  appellation 
of  Marcus  Julius]  as  the  epoch  from  which  the  Roman 


224  THE    C^ESAES. 

empire,  already  sapped  and  undermined  by  changes 
from  within,  began  to  give  way,  and  to  dilapidate  from 
without.  And  this  reign  dates  itself  in  the  series  by 
those  ever-memorable  secular  or  jubilee  games,  which 
celebrated  the  completion  of  the  thousandth  year  from 
the  foundation  of  Rome.51 

Resuming  our  sketch  of  the  Imperial  history,  we 
may  remark  the  natural  embarrassment  which  must 
have  possessed  the  senate,  when  two  candidates  for 
the  purple  were  equally  earnest  in  appealing  to  them, 
and  their  deliberate  choice,  as  the  best  foundation  for 
a  valid  election.  Scarcely  had  the  ground  been  cleared 
for  iEmilianus  by  the  murder  of  Gallus  and  his  son, 
when  Valerian,  a  Roman  senator,  of  such  eminent 
merit,  and  confessedly  so  much  the  foremost  noble  in 
all  the  qualities  essential  to  the  very  delicate  and  com- 
prehensive functions  of  a  Censor,52  that  Decius  had 
revived  that  office  expressly  in  his  behalf,  entered  Italy 
at  the  head  of  the  army  from  Gaul.  He  had  been 
summoned  to  his  aid  by  the  late  emperor,  Gallus ;  but 
arriving  too  late  for  his  support,  he  determined  to 
avenge  bim.  Both  JEmilianus  and  Valerian  recognized 
the  authority  of  the  senate,  and  professed  to  act  under 
that  sanction  ;  but  it  was  the  soldiery  who  cut  the  knot, 
as  usual,  by  the  sword.  iEmilianus  was  encamped  at 
Spolcto ;  but  as  the  enemy  drew  near,  his  soldiers, 
shrinking  no  doubt  from  a  contest  with  veteran  troops, 
made  their  peace  by  murdering  the  new  emperor,  and 


THE    CjKSARS.  225 

Valerian  was  elected  in  his  steael.  The  prince  was 
already  an  old  man  at  the  time  of  his  election  ;  but  he 
lived  long  enough  to  look  back  upon  the  day  of  his 
inauguration  as  the  blackest  in  his  life.  Memorable 
were  the  calamities  which  fell  upon  himself,  and  upon 
the  empire,  during  his  reign.  He  began  by  associating 
to  himself  his  son  Gallienus ;  partly,  perhaps,  for  his 
own  relief,  party  to  indulge  the  senate  in  their  steady 
plan  of  dividing  the  imperial  authority.  The  two 
emperors  undertook  the  military  defence  of  the  empire, 
Gallienus  proceeding  to  the  German  frontier,  Valerian 
to  the  eastern.  Under  Gallienus,  the  Franks  began 
first  to  make  themselves  heard  of.  Breaking  into  Gaul, 
they  passed  through  that  country  and  Spain  ;  captured 
Tarragona  in  their  route  ;  crossed  over  to  Africa,  and 
conquered  Mauritania.  At  the  same  time,  the  Ale- 
manni,  who  had  been  in  motion  since  the  time  of  Cara- 
calla,  broke  into  Lombardy,  across  the  Rha?tian  Alps. 
The  senate,  left  without  aid  from  either  emperors,  were 
obliged  to  make  preparations  for  the  common  defence 
against  this  host  of  barbarians.  Luckily,  the  very 
magnitude  of  the  enemy's  success,  by  overloading  him 
with  booty,  made  it  his  interest  to  retire  without  fight- 
ing ;  and  the  degraded  senate,  hanging  upon  the  traces 
of  their  retiring  footsteps,  without  fighting,  or  daring 
to  fight,  claimed  the  honors  of  a  victory.  Even  then, 
however,  they  did  more  than  was  agreeable  to  the 
jealousies  of  Gallienus,  who,   by   an    edict,    publicly 


226  THE    CJESARS. 

rebuked  their  presumption,  and  forbade  them  in  future 
to  appear  amongst  the  legions,  or  to  exercise  any 
military  functions.  He  himself,  meanwhile,  could 
devise  no  better  way  of  providing  for  the  public  se- 
curity, than  by  marrying  the  daughter  of  his  chief 
enemy,  the  king  of  the  Marcomanni.  On  this  side  of 
Europe,  the  barbarians  were  thus  quieted  for  the  pres- 
ent ;  but  the  Goths  of  the  Ukraine,  in  three  marauding 
expeditions  of  unprecedented  violence,  ravaged  the 
wealthy  regions  of  Asia  Minor,  as  well  as  the  islands 
of  the  Archipelago  :  and  at  length,  under  the  guidance 
of  deserters,  landed  in  the  port  of  the  Pyraeus.  Ad- 
vancing from  this  point,  after  sacking  Athens  and  the 
chief  cities  of  Greece,  they  marched  upon  Epirus,  and 
began  to  threaten  Italy.  But  the  defection  at  this  crisis 
of  a  conspicuous  chieftain,  and  the  burden  of  their 
booty,  made  these  wild  marauders  anxious  to  provide 
for  a  safe  retreat ;  the  imperial  commanders  in  Mcesia 
listened  eagerly  to  their  offers  :  and  it  set  the  seal  to 
the  dishonors  of  the  State,  that,  after  having  traversed 
so  vast  a  range  of  territory  almost  without  resistance, 
these  blood-stained  brigands  were  now  suffered  to  re- 
tire under  the  very  guardianship  of  those  whom  they 
had  just  visited  with  military  execution. 

Such  were  the  terms  upon  which  the  Emperor 
Gallienus  purchased  a  brief  respite  from  his  haughty 
enemies.  For  the  moment,  however,  he  did  enjoy 
security.     Far   otherwise  was  the  destiny  of  his  un- 


THE    CAESARS.  227 

happy  father.  Sapor  now  ruled  in  Persia  ;  the  throne 
of  Armenia  had  vainly  striven  to  maintain  its  inde- 
pendency against  his  armies,  and  the  daggers  of  his 
hired  assassins.  This  revolution,  which  so  much  en- 
feebled the  Roman  means  of  war,  exactly  in  that 
proportion  increased  the  necessity  for  it.  War,  and 
that  instantly,  seemed  to  offer  the  only  chance  for 
maintaining  the  Roman  name  or  existence  in  Asia. 
Canine  and  Xisibis,  the  two  potent  fortresses  in  Meso- 
potamia, had  fallen  ;  and  the  Persian  arms  were  now 
triumphant  on  both  banks  of  the  Euphrates.  Valerian 
was  not  of  a  character  to  look  with  indifference  upon 
such  a  scene,  terminated  by  such  a  prospect ;  prudence 
and  temerity,  fear  and  confidence,  all  spoke  a  common 
language  in  this  great  emergency  ;  and  Valerian 
marched  towards  the  Euphrates  with  a  fixed  purpose 
of  driving  the  enemy  beyond  that  river.  By  whose 
mismanagement  the  records  of  history  do  not  enable 
us  to  say,  some  think  of  Macrianus,  the  praetorian 
prefect,  some  of  Valerian  himself,  but  doubtless  by  the 
treachery  of  guides  co-operating  with  errors  in  the 
general,  the  Roman  army  was  entangled  in  marshy 
grounds  ;  partial  actions  followed  and  skirmishes  of 
cavalry,  in  which  the  Unmans  became  direfully  aware 
of  their  situation  ;  retreat  was  cut  off,  to  advance  was 
impossible  ;  and  to  fight  was  now  found  to  be  without 
hope.  In  these  circumstances,  they  offered  to  capitu- 
late.     But  the  haughty  Sapor  would  hear  of  nothing 


228  THE    CJESAKS. 

but  unconditional  surrender ;  and  to  that  course  the 
unhappy  emperor  submitted.  Various  traditions53 
have  been  preserved  by  history  concerning  the  fate  of 
Valerian  ;  all  agree  that  he  died  in  misery  and  captiv- 
ity ;  but  some  have  circumstantiated  this  general  state- 
ment by  features  of  excessive  misery  and  degradation, 
which  possibly  were  added  afterwards  by  scenical  ro- 
mancers, in  order  to  heighten  the  interest  of  the  tale,  or 
by  ethical  writers,  in  order  to  point  and  strengthen  the 
moral.  Gallienus  now  ruled  alone,  except  as  regarded 
the  restless  efforts  of  insurgents,  thirty  of  whom  are 
said  to  have  arisen  in  his  single  reign.  This,  however, 
is  probably  an  exaggeration.  Nineteen  such  rebels 
are  mentioned  by  name  :  of  whom  the  chief  were  Cal- 
purnius  Piso,  a  Roman  senator  ;  Tetricus,  a  man  of 
rank  who  claimed  a  descent  from  Pompey,  Crassus, 
and  even  from  Numa  Pompilius,  and  maintained  him- 
self some  time  in  Gaul  and  Spain  ;  Trebellianus,  who 
founded  a  republic  of  robbers  in  Isauria  which  survived 
himself  by  centuries  ;  and  Odenathus,  the  Syrian. 
Others  were  mere  Terra;  fihi,  or  adventurers,  who 
flourished  and  decayed  in  a  few  days  or  weeks,  of 
whom  the  most  remarkable  was  a  working  armorer 
named  Marius.  Not  one  of  the  whole  number  event- 
ually prospered,  except  Odenathus  ;  and  he,  though 
originally  a  rebel,  yet,  in  consideration  of  services 
performed  against  Persia,  was  suffered  to  retain  his 
power,  and  to  transmit  his  kingdom  of  Palmyra  to  his 


THE    C.ESAR8.  229 

widow  Zenobia.  He  was  even  complimented  with  the 
title  of  Augustas.  All  the  rest  perished.  Their  rise, 
however,  and  local  prosperity  at  so  many  different 
points  of  the  empire,  showed  the  distracted  condition 
of  the  State,  and  its  internal  weakness.  That  again 
proclaimed  its  external  peril.  No  other  cause  had 
called  forth  this  diffusive  spirit  of  insurrection  than 
the  general  consciousness,  so  fatally  warranted,  of  the 
debility  which  had  emasculated  the  government,  and 
its  incompetency  to  deal  vigorously  with  the  public 
enemies.54  The  very  granaries  of  Rome,  Sicily  and 
Egypt,  were  the  seats  of  continued  distractions ;  in 
Alexandria,  the  second  city  of  the  empire,  there  was 
even  a  civil  war  which  lasted  for  twelve  years.  Weak- 
ness, dissension  and  misery,  were  spread  like  a  cloud 
over  the  whole  face  of  the  empire. 

The  last  of  the  rebels  who  directed  his  rebellion 
personally  against  Gallicnus  was  Aurcolus.  Passing 
the  Rhsetian  Alps,  this  leader  sought  out  and  defied  the 
emperor.  ■  He  was  defeated,  and  retreated  upon  Milan  ; 
but  Gallicnus,  in  pursuing  him,  was  lured  into  an  am- 
buscade, and  perished  from  the  wound  inflicted  by  an 
archer.  With  his  dying  breath  he  is  said  to  have 
recommended  Claudius  to  the  favor  of  the  senate  ;  and 
at  all  events  Claudius  it  was  who  succeeded.  Scarcely 
was  the  new  emperor  installed,  before  he  was  sum- 
moned to  a  trial  not  only  arduous  in  itself,  but  terrific 
by  the   very  name   of  the  enemy.     The  Goths  of  the 


230  THE    C.ESARS. 

Ukraine,  in  a  new  armament  of  six  thousand  vessels, 
had  again  descended  by  the  Bosphorus  into  the  south, 
and  had  sat  down  before  Thessalonica,  the  capital  of 
Macedonia.  Claudius  marched  against  them  with  the 
determination  to  vindicate  the  Roman  name  and  honor : 
'  Know,'  said  he,  writing  to  the  senate,  '  that  320,000 
Goths  have  set  foot  upon  the  Roman  soil.  Should  I 
conquer  them,  your  gratitude  will  be  my  reward. 
Should  I  fall,  do  not  forget  who  it  is  that  I  have  suc- 
ceeded ;  and  that  the  republic  is  exhausted.'  No  sooner 
did  the  Goths  hear  of  his  approach,  than,  with  trans- 
ports of  ferocious  joy,  they  gave  up  the  siege,  and 
hurried  to  annihilate  the  last  pillar  of  the  empire.  The 
mighty  battle  which  ensued,  neither  party  seeking  to 
evade  it,  took  place  at  Naissus.  At  one  time  the 
legions  were  giving  way,  when  suddenly,  by  some 
happy  manoeuvre  of  the  emperor,  a  Roman  corps  found 
its  way  to  the  rear  of  the  enemy.  The  Goths  gave 
way,  and  their  defeat  was  total.  According  to  most 
accounts  they  left  50,000  dead  upon  the  field.  The 
campaign  still  lingered,  however,  at  other  points,  until 
at  last  the  emperor  succeeded  in  driving  back  the  relics 
of  the  Gothic  host  into  the  fastnesses  of  the  Balkan; 
and  there  the  greater  part  of  them  died  of  hunger  and 
pestilence.  These  great  services  performed,  within 
two  years  from  his  accession  to  the  throne,  by  the 
rarest  of  fates,  the  Emperor  Claudius  died  in  his  bed 
at  Sirmium,    the    capital    of   Pannonia.      His   brother 


THE    C£SA.B8.  2!il 

Quintilius,  who  had  a  great  command  at  Aquileia,  im- 
mediately resumed  the  purple  ;  hut  his  usurpation  lasted 
only  seventeen  days,  for  the  last  emperor,  with  a  single 
eye  to  the  public  good,  had  recommended  Aurelian  as 
his  successor,  guided  by  his  personal  knowledge  of  that 
general's  strategic  qualities.     The  army  of  the  Danube 
confirmed  the  appointment;  and  Quintilius  committed 
suicide.     Aurelian  was  of  the  same  harsh  and  forbid- 
ding character  as  the  Emperor  Severus :  he  had,  how- 
ever, the  qualities  demanded  by  the  times  ;   energetic 
and  not  amiable   princes   were    required  by  the    exi- 
gencies of  the  state.     The  hydra-headed  Goths  were 
again  in  the  field  on  the  Illyrian  quarter  :   Italy  itself 
was  invaded  by  the  Alemanni ;  and  Tctricus,  the  rebel, 
still  survived  as  a  monument  of  the  weakness  of  Gal- 
lienus.     All   these   enemies  were    speedily  repressed, 
or   vanquished,  by   Aurelian.      But   it  marks  the  real 
declension  of  the  empire,  a  declension  which  no  per- 
sonal vigor  in  the  emperor  was  now  sufficient  to  dis- 
guise,   that,    even    in  the  midst    of  victory,   Aurelian 
found    it    necessary  to   make    a    formal  surrender,  by 
treaty,  of  that  Dacia  which  Trajan  had  united  with  so 
much   ostentation   to   the   empire.      Europe    was  now 
again  in  repose  ;  and  Aurelian  found  himself  at  liberty 
to  apply  his  powers  as  a  re-organizer  and  restorer  to 
the  East.     In  that  quarter  of  the  world  a  marvellous 
revolution  had  occurred.     The  little  oasis  of  Palmyra, 
from    a    Roman   colony,    had   grown  into  the  leading 


232  THE    CJiSARS. 

province  of  a  great  empire.  This  island  of  the  desert, 
together  with  Syria  and  Egypt,  formed  an  independent 
monarchy  under  the  sceptre  of  Zenobia.55  After  two 
battles  lost  in  Syria,  Zenobia  retreated  to  Palmyra. 
With  great  difficulty  Aurelian  pursued  her ;  and  with 
still  greater  difficulty  he  pressed  the  siege  of  Palmyra. 
Zenobia  looked  for  relief  from  Persia;  but  at  that 
moment  Sapor  died,  and  the  Queen  of  Palmyra  fled 
upon  a  dromedary,  but  was  pursued  and  captured. 
Palmyra  surrendered  and  was  spared ;  but  unfortu- 
nately, with  a  folly  which  marks  the  haughty  spirit  of 
the  place  unfitted  to  brook  submission,  scarcely  had 
the  conquering  army  retired  when  a  tumult  arose,  and 
the  Roman  garrison  was  slaughtered.  Little  knowledge 
could  those  have  had  of  Aurelian's  character,  who 
tempted  him  to  acts  but  too  welcome  to  his  cruel 
nature  by  such  an  outrage  as  this.  The  news  over- 
took the  emperor  on  the  Hellespont.  Instantly,  without 
pause,  '  like  Ate  hot  from  hell,'  Aurelian  retraced 
his  steps  —  reached  the  guilty  city  —  and  consigned  it, 
with  ail  its  population,  to  that  utter  destruction  from 
which  it  has  never  since  risen.  The  energetic  admin- 
istration of  Aurelian  had  now  restored  the  empire  — 
not  to  its  lost  vigor,  that  was  impossible  —  but  to  a 
condition  of  repose.  That  was  a  condition  more  agree- 
able to  the  empire  than  to  the  emperor.  Peace  w.as 
hateful  to  Aurelian  :  and  he  sought  for  war,  where  it 
could   seldom  be   sought  in   vain,   upon   the   Persian 


THE    CJiSARS.  233 

frontier.  But  he  was  not  destined  to  reach  the  Eu- 
phrates ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  notice,  as  a  providential 
ordinance,  that  his  own  unmerciful  nature  was  the 
ultimate  cause  of  his  fate.  Anticipating  the  emperor's 
severity  in  punishing  some  errors  of  his  own,  Mucassor, 
a  general  officer,  in  whom  Aureliau  placed  especial 
confidence,  assassinated  him  between  Byzantium  and 
Heraclea.  An  interregnum  of  eight  months  succeeded, 
during  which  there  occurred  a  contest  of  a  memorable 
nature.  Some  historians  have  described  it  as  strange 
and  surprising.  To  us,  on  the  contrary,  it  seems  that 
no  contest  could  be  more  natural.  Heretofore  the 
great  strife  had  been  in  what  way  to  secure  the  re- 
version or  possession  of  that  great  dignity  ;  whereas 
now  the  rivalship  lay  in  declining  it.  But  surely  such 
a  competition  had  in  it,  under  the  circumstances  of 
the  empire,  little  that  can  justly  surprise  us.  Always 
a  post  of  danger,  and  so  regularly  closed  by  assassina- 
tion, that  in  a  course  of  two  centuries  there  are  hardly 
to  be  found  three  or  four  cases  of  exception,  the  im- 
peratorial  dignity  had  now  become  burdened  with 
a  public  responsibility  which  exacted  great  military 
talents,  and  imposed  a  perpetual  and  personal  activity. 
Formerly,  if  the  emperor  knew  himself  to  be  sur- 
rounded with  assassins,  he  might  at  least  make  his 
throne,  so  long  as  he  enjoyed  it,  the  couch  of  a 
voluptuary.  The  '  ave  imperator ! "  was  then  the 
summons,  if  to  the  supremacy  in  passive  danger,  so 
20 


234  THE    C^SARS. 

also    to    the     supremacy    in    power,    and    honor,    and 
enjoyment.     But   now   it   was  a   summons   to   never- 
ending  tumults  and  alarms  ;    an  injunction  to  that  sor* 
of  vigilance  without    intermission,   which,  even   from 
the  poor  sentinel,  is  exacted  only  when  on  duty.     Not 
Rome,  but  the  frontier ;    not  the  aurea  domus,  but  a 
camp,  was  the  imperial   residence.     Power  and  rank, 
whilst  in   that  residence,  could    be   had  in  no  larger 
measure  by  Caesar  as  Caesar,  than  by  the  same  indi- 
vidual as   a  military   commander-in-chief;  and,  as  to 
enjoyment,   that  for  the   Roman    imperator  was   now 
extinct.     Rest  there  could  be  none  for  him.     Battle 
was  the  tenure  by  which  he  held  his  office ;    and  be- 
yond the  range  of  his  trumpet's  blare,  his  sceptre  was 
a  broken  reed.     The  office  of  Caesar  at  this   time   re- 
sembled the  situation  (as  it  is  sometimes  described  in 
romances)  of  a  knight  who  had  achieved  the  favor  of 
some  capricious  lady,  with  the  present  possession  of 
her  castle    and   ample    domains,  but  which  he  holds 
under  the  known  and  accepted  condition  of  meeting 
all  challenges  whatsoever  offered  at  the  gate  by  wan- 
dering strangers,  and  also  of  jousting  at  any  moment 
with  each  and  all  amongst  the  inmates  of  the  castle, 
as  often  as  a  wish  may  arise  to  benefit  by  the  chances 
in  disputing  his  supremacy. 

It  is  a  circumstance,  moreover,  to  be  noticed  in  the 
aspect  of  the  Roman  monarchy  at  this  period,  that  the 
pressure  of  the  evils  we  are  now  considering,  applied 


Tin;  OXSABS.  235 

to  this  particular  age  of  the  empire  beyond  all  others, 
as  being  an  age  of  transition  from  a  greater  to  an 
inferior  power.  Had  the  power  been  either  greater  or 
conspicuously  less,  in  that  proportion  would  the  pres- 
sure have  been  easier,  or  none  at  all.  Being  greater, 
for  example,  the  danger  would  have  been  repelled  to 
a  distance  so  great  that  mere  remoteness  would  have 
disarmed  its  terrors,  or  otherwise  it  would  have  been 
violently  overawed.  Being  less,  on  the  other  hand, 
and  less  in  an  eminent  degree,  it  would  have  disposed 
all  parties,  as  it  did  at  an  after  period,  to  regular  and 
formal  compromises  in  the  shape  of  fixed  annual  trib- 
utes. At  present  the  policy  of  the  barbarians  along 
the  vast  line  of  the  northern  frontier,  was,  to  tease  and 
irritate  the  provinces  which  they  were  not  entirely 
able,  or  prudcntially  unwilling,  to  dismember.  Yet,  as 
the  almost  annual  irruptions  were  at  every,  instant 
ready  to  be  converted  into  coup- de-mains  upon  Aquileia 
—  upon  Verona  —  or  even  upon  Rome  itself,  unless 
vigorously  curbed  at  the  outset,  —  each  emperor  at  this 
period  found  himself  under  the  necessity  of  standing  in 
the  attitude  of  a  champion  or  propugnator  on  the  fron- 
tier line  of  his  territory  —  ready  for  all  comers  —  and 
with  a  pretty  certain  prospect  of  having  one  pitched 
battle  at  the  least  to  fight  in  every  successive  summer. 
There  were  nations  abroad  at  this  epoch  in  Europe 
who  did  not  migrate  occasionally,  or  occasionally  pro- 
ject themselves  upon  the  civilized  portion  of  the  globe, 


236  THE    C^ESAKS. 

but  who  made  it  their  steady  regular  occupation  to  do 
so,  and  lived  for  no  other  purpose.  For  seven  hundred 
years  the  Roman  Republic  might  be  styled  a  republic 
militant ;  for  about  one  century  further  it  was  an 
empire  triumphant ;  and  now,  long  retrograde,  it  had 
reached  that  point  at  which  again,  but  in  a  different 
sense,  it  might  be  styled  an  empire  militant.  Originally 
it  had  militated  for  glory  and  power  ;  now  its  militancy 
was  for  mere  existence.  War  was  again  the  trade  of 
Rome,  as  it  had  been  once  before  ;  but  in  that  earlier 
period  war  had  been  its  highest  glory ;  now  it  was  its 
dire  necessity. 

Under  this  analysis  of  the  Roman  condition,  need  we 
wonder,  with  the  crowd  of  unreflecting  historians,  that 
the  senate,  at  the  era  of  Aurelian's  death,  should  dis- 
pute amongst  each  other  —  not  as  once,  for  the  pos- 
session of  the  sacred  purple,  but  for  the  luxury  and 
safety  of  declining  it?  The  sad  pre-eminence  was 
finally  imposed  upon  Tacitus,  a  senator  who  traced 
his  descent  from  the  historian  of  that  name,  who  had 
reached  an  age  of  seventy-five  years,  and  who  pos- 
sessed a  fortune  of  three  millions  sterling.  Vainly  did 
the  agitated  old  senator  open  his  lips  to  decline  the 
perilous  honor ;  five  hundred  voices  insisted  upon  the 
necessity  of  his  compliance  ;  and  thus,  as  a  foreign 
writer  observes,  was  the  descendant  of  him,  whose 
glory  it  had  been  to  signalize  himself  as  the  hater  of 
despotism,  under  the  absolute  necessity  of  becoming, 
in  his  own  person,  a  despot. 


THE     CiESAKS.  237 

The  aged  senator  then  was  compelled  to  be  emperor, 
and  forced,  in  spite  of  his  vehement  reluctance,  to  quit 
the  comforts  of  a  palace,  which  he  was  never  to  revisit, 
for  the  hardships  of  a  distant  camp.  His  first  act  was 
strikingly  illustrative  of  the  Roman  condition,  as  we 
have  just  described  it.  Aurelian  had  attempted  to 
disarm  one  set  of  enemies  by  turning  the  current  of 
their  fury  upon  another.  The  Alani  were  in  search 
of  plunder,  and  strongly  disposed  to  obtain  it  from 
Roman  provinces.  '  But  no,'  said  Aurelian  ;  '  if  you 
do  that  I  shall  unchain  my  legions  upon  you.  Be 
better  advised  :  keep  those  excellent  dispositions  of 
mind,  and  that  admirable  taste  for  plunder,  until  you 
come  whither  I  will  conduct  you.  Then  discharge 
your  fury  and  welcome  ;  besides  which,  I  will  pay 
you  wages  for  your  immediate  abstinence  ;  and  on  the 
other  side  the  Euphrates  you  shall  pay  yourselves.' 
Such  was  the  outline  of  the  contract  ;  and  the  Alani 
had  accordingly  held  themselves  in  readiness  to  accom- 
pany Aurelian  from  Europe  to  his  meditated  Persian 
campaign.  Meantime,  that  emperor  had  perished  by 
treason  ;  and  the  Alani  were  still  waiting  for  his  suc- 
cessor on  the  throne  to  complete  his  engagements  with 
themselves,  as  being  of  necessity  the  successor  also 
to  his  wars  and  to  his  responsibilities.  It  happened, 
from  the  state  of  the  empire,  as  we  have  sketched  it 
above,  that  Tacitus  really  did  succeed  to  the  military 
plans  of  Aurelian.     The   Persian   expedition    was   or- 


238  THE    CJESARS. 

dained  to  go  forward  ;  and  Tacitus  began,  as  a  pre- 
liminary step  in  that  expedition,  to  look  about  for  bis 
good  allies  tbe  barbarians.  "Where  might  they  be,  and 
how  employed  ?  Naturally,  they  had  long  been  weary 
of  waiting.  The  Persian  booty  might  be  good  after 
its  kind  ;  but  it  was  far  away  ;  and,  en  attendant, 
Roman  booty  was  doubtless  good  after  its  kind.  And 
so,  throughout  the  provinces  of  Cappadocia,  Pontus, 
&c,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  stretch,  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  but  cities  and  villages  in  flames.  The  Roman 
army  hungered  and  thirsted  to  be  unmuzzled  and 
slipped  upon  these  false  friends.  But  this,  for  the 
present,  Tacitus  would  not  allow.  He  began  by  punc- 
tually fulfilling  all  the  terms  of  Aurelian's  contract,  — 
a  measure  which  barbarians  inevitably  construed  into 
the  language  of  fear.  But  then  came  the  retribution. 
Having  satisfied  public  justice,  the  emperor  now 
thought  of  vengeance  ;  he  unchained  his  legions  :  a 
brief  space  of  time  sufficed  for  a  long  course  of  ven- 
geance :  and  through  every  outlet  of  Asia  Minor  the 
Alani  fled  from  the  wrath  of  the  Roman  soldier.  Here, 
however,  terminated  the  military  labors  of  Tacitus  : 
he  died  at  Tyana  in  Cappadocia,  as  some  say,  from 
the  effects  of  the  climate  of  the  Caucasus,  co-operating 
with  irritations  from  the  insolence  of  the  soldiery  :  but, 
as  Zosimus  and  Zonoras  expressly  assure  us,  under  the 
murderous  hands  of  his  own  troops.  His  brother 
Florianus  at  first  usurped  the  purple,  by  the  aid  of  the 


thk  cv.sa.us.  239 

Illyrian  army  ;   but  the  choice  of  other  armies,  after- 
wards confirmed  hy  the  senate,  settled  upon  Probus, 
a  general    already    celebrated    under    Aurelian.       Tbe 
two  competitors  drew  near  to  each  other  for  the  usual 
decision  by  the  sword,  when   the   dastardly  supporters 
of  Florian  offered  up  their  chosen  prince  as  a  sacrifice 
to  his  antagonist.    Probus,  settled  in  his  seat,  addressed 
himself  to  the  regular  business  of  those  times,  —  to  the 
reduction  of  insurgent  provinces,    and   the   liberation 
of  others  from  hostile  molestations.     Isauria  and  Egypt 
be  visited  in  the  character  of  a  conqueror,  Gaul  in  tbe 
character  of  a  deliverer.     From  the  Gaulish  provinces 
he  chased  in  succession  the  Franks,  the  Burgundians, 
and  the  Lygians.     He  pursued  the  intruders  far  into 
their  German  thickets  ;  and  nine  of  the  native  German 
princes  came  spontaneously  into  his  camp,  subscribed 
such  conditions  as  he  thought  fit  to  dictate,  and  com- 
plied with  his  requisitions  of  tribute  in  horses  and  pro- 
visions.     This,  however,  is  a  delusive  gleam  of  Roman 
energy,  little  corresponding  with  the  true  condition  of 
the  Roman  power,  and  entirely  due  to  the  personal 
qualities  of  Probus.      Probus  himself  showed  his  sense 
of  the   true   state  of  affairs,  by  carrying  a  stone  wall, 
of  considerable  height,  from  the  Danube  to  the  Neckax. 
He  made  various  attempts  also  to  effect  a  better  distri- 
bution of  barbarous  tribes,  by  dislocating  their  settle- 
ments, and  making  extensive  translations  of  their  clans, 
according  to  the  circumstances  of  those  times.     These 


240  THE    CJESATIS. 

arrangements,  however,  suggested  often  by  short- 
sighted views,  and  carried  iuto  effect  by  mere  violence, 
were  sometimes  defeated  visibly  at  the  time,  and, 
doubtless,  in  very  few  cases  accomplished  the  ends 
proposed.  In  one  instance,  where  a  party  of  Franks 
had  been  transported  into  the  Asiatic  province  of  Pon- 
tus,  as  a  column  of  defence  against  the  intrusive  Alani, 
being  determined  to  revisit  their  own  country,  they 
swam  the  Hellespont,  landed  on  the  coasts  of  Asia 
Minor  and  of  Greece,  plundered  Syracuse,  steered  for 
the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  sailed  along  the  shores  of  Spain 
and  Gaul,  passing  finally  through  the  English  Channel 
and  the  German  Ocean,  right  onwards  to  the  Frisic 
and  Batavian  coasts,  where  they  exultingly  rejoined 
their  exulting  friends.  Meantime,  all  the  energy  and 
military  skill  of  Probus  could  not  save  him  from  the 
competition  of  various  rivals.  Indeed,  it  must  then 
have  been  felt,  as  by  us  who  look  back  on  those  times 
it  is  now  felt,  that,  amidst  so  continued  a  series  of  brief 
reigns,  interrupted  by  murders,  scarcely  an  idea 
could  arise  answering  to  our  modern  ideas  of  treason 
and  usurpation.  For  the  ideas  of  fealty  and  allegiance, 
as  to  a  sacred  and  anointed  monarch,  could  have  no 
time  tr>  take  root.  Candidates  for  the  purple  must 
have  been  viewed  rather  as  military  rivals  than  as 
traitors  to  the  reigning  Coesar.  And  hence  the  reason 
for  the  right  resistance  which  was  often  experienced 
by  the  seducers  of  armies.     Probus,  however,  as  acci- 


THE    C.ESARS.  241 

dent  in  his  case  ordered  it,  subdued  all  bis  personal 
opponents,  —  Saturninus  in  tbe  East,  Proculus  and 
Bonoses  in  Gaul.  For  tbese  victories  be  triumpbed  in 
tbe  year  281.  But  bis  last  bour  was  even  then  at 
band.  One  point  of  his  military  discipline,  which  he 
brought  back  from  elder  days,  was,  to  suffer  no  idle- 
ness in  his  camps.  He  it  was  who,  by  military  labor, 
transferred  to  Gaul  and  to  Hungary  the  Italian  vine,  to 
the  great  indignation  of  the  Italian  monopolist.  The 
culture  of  vineyards,  the  laying  of  military  roads,  the 
draining  of  marshes,  and  similar  labors,  perpetually 
employed  the  hands  of  his  stubborn  and  contumacious 
troops.  On  some  work  of  this  nature  the  army  hap- 
pened to  be  employed  near  Sirmium,  and  Probus  was 
looking  on  from  a  tower,  when  a  sudden  frenzy  of 
disobedience  seized  upon  the  men :  a  party  of  the 
mutineers  ran  up  to  the  emperor,  and  with  a  hundred 
wounds  laid  him  instantly  dead.  We  are  told  by  some 
writers  that  the  army  was  immediately  seized  with  re- 
morse for  its  own  act ;  which,  if  truly  reported,  rather 
tends  to  confirm  the  image,  otherwise  impressed  upon  us 
of  the  relations  between  tbe  army  and  Ciesar,  as  pretty 
closely  corresponding  with  those  between  some  fierce 
wild  beast  and  its  keeper ;  the  keeper,  if  not  uniformly 
vigilant  as  an  argus,  is  continually  liable  to  fall  a 
sacrifice  to  the  wild  instincts  of  the  brute,  mastering 
at  intervals  tbe  reverence  and  fear  under  which  it  has 
been  habitually  trained.  In  this  case,  both  tbe  murder- 
21 


242  THE    C.ESARS. 

ing  impulse  and  the  remorse  seem  alike  the  effects  of 
a  brute  instinct,  and  to  have  arisen  under  no  guidance 
of  rational  purpose  or  reflection.  The  person  who 
profited  by  this  murder  was  Cams,  the  captain  of  the 
guard,  a  man  of  advanced  years,  and  a  soldier,  both 
by  experience  and  by  his  propensities.  He  was  pro- 
claimed emperor  by  the  army ;  and  on  this  occasion 
there  was  no  further  reference  to  the  senate,  than  by 
a  dry  statement  of  the  facts  for  its  information.  Troub- 
ling himself  little  about  the  approbation  of  a  body 
not  likely  in  any  way  to  affect  his  purposes  (which 
were  purely  martial,  and  adapted  to  the  tumultuous 
state  of  the  empire),  Carus  made  immediate  prepara- 
tions for  pursuing  the  Persian  expedition,  —  so  long 
promised,  and  so  often  interrupted.  Having  provided 
for  the  security  of  the  Illyrian  frontier  by  a  bloody 
victory  over  the  Sarmatians,  of  whom  we  now  hear 
for  the  first  time,  Carus  advanced  towards  the  Eu- 
phrates ;  and  from  the  summit  of  a  mountain  he  point- 
ed the  eyes  of  his  eager  army  upon  the  rich  provinces 
of  the  Persian  empire.  Varanes,  the  successor  of 
Artaxerxes,  vainly  endeavored  to  negotiate  a  peace. 
From  some  unknown  cause,  the  Persian  armies  were 
not  at  this  juncture  disposable  against  Carus  :  it  has 
been  conjectured  by  some  writers  that  they  were 
engaged  in  an  Indian  war.  Carus,  it  is  certain,  met 
with  little  resistance.  He  insisted  on  having  the  Roman 
supremacy    acknowledged    as    a   preliminary    to    any 


THE    CJESARS.  243 

treaty  ;  and,  having  threatened  to  make  Persia  as  hare 
as  his  own  skull,  he  is  supposed  to  have  kept  his  word 
with  regard  to  Mesopotamia.  The  great  cities  of 
siphon  and  Seleucia  he  took  ;  and  vast  expectations 
were  formed  at  Rome  of  the  events  which  stood  next 
in  succession,  when,  on  Christmas  day,  283,  a  sudden 
and  mysterious  end  overtook  Carus  and  his  victorious 
advance.  The  story  transmitted  to  Rome  was,  that 
a  great  storm,  and  a  sudden  darkness,  had  surprised 
the  camp  of  Carus ;  that  the  emperor,  previously  ill, 
and  reposing  in  his  tent,  was  ohscured  from  sight ;  that 
at  length  a  cry  had  arisen,  —  '  The  emperor  is  dead  ! ' 
and  that,  at  the  same  moment,  the  imperial  tent  had 
taken  fire.  The  fire  was  traced  to  the  confusion  of 
his  attendants ;  and  this  confusion  was  imputed  hy 
themselves  to  grief  for  their  master's  death.  In  all 
this  it  is  easy  to  read  pretty  circumstantially  a  murder 
committed  on  the  emperor  by  corrupted  servants,  and 
an  attempt  afterwards  to  conceal  the  indications  of 
murder  by  the  ravages  of  fire.  The  report  propagated 
through  the  army,  and  at  that  time  received  with  credit, 
was,  that  Carus  had  been  struck  by  lightning  :  and  that 
omen,  according  to  the  Roman  interpretation,  implied 
a  necessity  of  retiring  from  the  expedition.  So  that, 
apparently,  the  whole  was  a  bloody  intrigue,  set  on 
foot  for  the  purpose  of  counteracting  the  emperor's 
resolution  to  prosecute  the  war.  His  son  Numerian 
succeeded  to  the  rank  of  emperor  by  the  choice  of  the 


244  THE    C.ESA.RS. 

army.  But  the  mysterious  faction  of  murderers  were 
still  at  work.  After  eight  months'  march  from  the 
Tigris  to  the  Thracian  Bosphorus,  the  army  halted  at 
Chalcedon.  At  this  point  of  time  a  report  arose  sud- 
denly, that  the  Emperor  Numerian  was  dead.  The 
impatience  of  the  soldiery  would  brook  no  uncertainty  ; 
they  rushed  to  the  spot ;  satisfied  themselves  of  the 
fact;  and,  loudly  denouncing  as  the  murderer  Aper, 
the  captain  of  the  guard,  committed  him  to  custody, 
and  assigned  to  Dioclesian,  whom  at  the  same  time 
they  invested  with  the  supreme  power,  the  duty  of 
investigating  the  case.  Dioclesian  acquitted  himself 
of  this  task  in  a  very  summary  way,  by  passing  his 
sword  through  the  captain  before  he  could  say  a  word 
in  his  defence.  It  seems  that  Dioclesian,  having  been 
promised  the  empire  by  a  prophetess  as  soon  as  he 
should  have  killed  a  wild  boar  [Aper],  was  anxious  to 
realize  the  omen.  The  whole  proceeding  has  been 
taxed  with  injustice  so  manifest,  as  not  even  to  seek 
a  disguise.  Meantime,  it  should  be  remembered  that, 
first,  Aper,  as  the  captain  of  the  guard,  was  answer- 
able for  the  emperor's  safety ;  secondly,  that  his 
anxiety  to  profit  by  the  emperor's  murder  was  a  sure 
sign  that  he  had  participated  in  that  act ;  and,  thirdly, 
that  the  assent  of  the  soldiery  to  the  open  and  public 
act  of  Dioclesian,  implies  a  conviction  on  their  part 
of  Aper's  guilt.  Here  let  us  pause,  having  now 
arrived  at  the  fourth  and  last  group  of  the  Caesars,  to 


the  c.r.sARs.  245 

notice  the  changes  which  had  been  wrought  by  time, 
co-operating  with  political  events,  in  the  very  nature 
and  constitution  of  the  imperial  office. 

If  it  should  unfortunately  happen,  that  the  palace  of 
the  Vatican,  with  its  thirteen  thousand 56  chambers, 
were  to  take  fire  —  for  a  considerable  space  of  time 
the  fire  would  be  retarded  by  the  mere  enormity  of 
extent  which  it  would  have  to  traverse.  But  there 
would  come  at  length  a  critical  moment,  at  which  the 
maximum  of  the  retarding  effect  having  been  attained, 
the  bulk  and  volume  of  the  flaming  mass  would  thence- 
forward assist  the  flames  in  the  rapidity  of  their  pro- 
gress. Such  was  the  effect  upon  the  declension  of  the 
Roman  empire  from  the  vast  extent  of  its  territory. 
For  a  very  long  period  that  very  extent,  which  finally 
became  the  overwhelming  cause  of  its  ruin,  served  to 
retard  and  to  disguise  it.  A  small  encroachment, 
made  at  any  one  point  upon  the  integrity  of  the  em- 
pire was  neither  much  regarded  at  Rome,  nor  perhaps 
in  and  for  itself  much  deserved  to  be  regarded.  But  a 
very  narrow  belt  of  enchroachments,  made  upon  almost 
every  part  of  so  enormous  a  circumference,  was  suffi- 
cient of  itself  to  compose  something  of  an  antagonist 
force.  And  to  these  external  dilapidations,  we  must 
add  the  far  more  important  dilapidations  from  within, 
affecting  all  the  institutions  of  the  State,  and  all  the 
forces,  whether  moral  or  political,  which  had  originally 
raised  it  or  maintained   it.     Causes  which  had   been 


246  THE    C^SARS. 

latent  in  the  public  arrangements  ever  since  the  time 
of  Augustus,  and  had  been  silently  preying  upon  its 
vitals,  had  now  reached  a  height  which  would  no  longer 
brook  concealment.  The  fire  which  had  smouldered 
through  generations  had  broken  out  at  length  into  an 
open  conflagration.  Uproar  and  disorder,  and  the 
anarchy  of  a  superannuated  empire,  strong  only  to 
punish  and  impotent  to  defend,  were  at  this  time  con- 
vulsing the  provinces  in  every  point  of  the  compass. 
Rome  herself  had  been  menaced  repeatedly.  And  a 
still  more  awful  indication  of  the  coming  storm  had 
been  felt  far  to  the  south  of  Rome.  One  long  wave 
of  the  great  German  deluge  had  stretched  beyond  the 
Pyrenees  and  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  to  the  very 
soil  of  Ancient  Carthage.  Victorious  banners  were 
already  floating  on  the  margin  of  the  Great  Desert, 
and  they  were  not  the  banners  of  Caesar.  Some  vig- 
orous hand  was  demanded  at  this  moment,  or  else  the 
funeral  knell  of  Rome  was  on  the  point  of  sounding. 
Indeed,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that,  had  the 
imbecile  Carinus  (the  brother  of  Numerian)  succeed- 
ed to  the  command  of  the  Roman  armies  at  this 
time,  or  any  other  than  Dioclesian,  the  Empire  of  the 
West  would  have  fallen  to  pieces  within  the  next  ten 
years. 

Dioclesian  was  doubtless  that  man  of  iron  whom 
the  times  demanded ;  and  a  foreign  writer  has  gone  so 
far  as  to  class  him  amongst  the  greatest  of  men,  if  he 


Tin:    CJBSAB8.  247 

were  not  even  himself  the  greatest.  But  the  position 
of  Dioclesian  was  remarkable  beyond  all  precedent, 
and  was  alone  sufficient  to  prevent  bis  being  the 
greatest  'it'  men,  by  making  it  necessary  that  he  should 
be  the  most  selfish.  For  the  case  stood  thus  :  If  Rome 
were  in  clanger,  much  more  so  was  Caesar.  If  the 
condition  of  the  empire  were  such  that  hardly  any 
energy  or  any  foresight  was  adequate  to  its  defence, 
for  the  emperor,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  scarcely 
a  possibility  that  he  should  escape  destruction.  The 
chances  were  in  an  overbalance  against  the  empire ; 
but  for  the  emperor  there  was  no  chance  at  all.  He 
shared  in  all  the  hazards  of  the  empire ;  and  had 
others  so  peculiarly  pointed  at  himself,  that  his  assas- 
sination was  now  become  as  much  a  matter  of  certain 
calculation,  as  seed  time  or  harvest,  summer  or  winter, 
or  any  other  revolution  of  the  seasons.  The  problem, 
therefore,  for  Dioclesian  was  a  double  one,  —  so  to 
provide  for  the  defence  and  maintenance  of  the  em- 
pire, as  simultaneously  (and,  if  possible,  through  the 
very  same  institution)  to  provide  for  the  personal 
security  of  Csesar.  This  problem  he  solved,  in  some 
imperfect  degree,  by  the  only  expedient  perhaps  open 
to  him  in  that  despotism,  and  in  those  times.  But  it  is 
remarkable,  that,  by  the  revolution  which  he  effected, 
the  office  of  Roman  Imperator  was  completely  altered, 
and  Caesar  became  henceforwarda  an  Oriental  Sultan 
or  Padishah.    Augustus,  when  moulding  for  his  future 


248  THE    CSSAKS. 

purposes  the  form  and  constitution  of  that  supremacj 
-which  he  had   obtained  by  inheritance  and  by  arms, 
proceeded  with  so  much  caution    and  prudence,  that 
even  the  style  and  title  of  his  office  was  discussed  in 
council  as  a  matter  of  the  first  moment.     The  principle 
of  his  policy  was  to  absorb  into  his  own  functions  all 
those  high  offices  which  conferred  any  real  power  to  bal- 
ance or  to  control  his  own.     For  this  reason  he  appro- 
priated   the    tribunitian    power;    because    that   was  a 
popular  and  representative  office,  which,  as  occasions 
arose,  would  have  given  some  opening  to  democratic 
influences.     But  the  consular  office  he  left  untouched ; 
because  all  its  power  was  transferred  to  the  imperator, 
by  the   entire  command  of  the  army,  and  by  the  new 
organization  of  the  provincial  governments.57     And  in 
all  the  rest  of  his  arrangements,  Augustus  had  pro- 
ceeded on  the  principle  of  leaving  as  many  openings 
to  civic  influences,  and  impressing  upon  all  his  insti- 
tutions as  much  of  the  old   Roman  character,  as  was 
compatible  with   the  real  and  substantial   supremacy 
established  in  the  person  of  the  emperor.     Neither  is 
it  at  all  certain,  as  regarded  even  this  aspect  of  the 
imperatorial  office,  that  Augustus  had  the  purpose,  or 
so  much  as  the  wish,  to  annihilate  all  collateral  power, 
and  to  invest  the  chief  magistrate  with  absolute  irre- 
sponsibility.    For  himself,  as  called  upon  to  restore  a 
shattered  government,  and  out  of  the  anarchy  of  civil 
wars  to  recombine  the  elements  of  power  into  some 


THE    CXSAUS.  249 

shape  better  fitted  for  duration    and,  by  consequence, 

for  insuring  peace  and  protection  to  the  world)  than 
the  extinct  republic,  it  might  be  reasonable  to  seek 
such  an  irresponsibility.  But,  as  regarded  his  succes- 
sors, considering  the  great  pains  he  took  to  discourage 
all  manifestations  of  princely  arrogance,  and  to  dcvcl- 
ope,  by  education  and  example,  the  civic  virtues  of 
patriotism  and  affability  in  their  whole  bearing  towards 
the  people  of  Rome,  there  is  reason  to  presume  that  he 
wished  to  remove  them  from  popular  control,  without, 
therefore,  removing  them  from  popular  influence. 

Hence  it  was,  and  from  this  original  precedent  of 
Augustus,  aided  by  the  constitution  which  he  had  given 
to  the  office  of  imperator,  that  up  to  the  era  of  Diocle- 
sian,  no  prince  had  dared  utterly  to  neglect  the  senate, 
or  the  people  of  Rome.  He  might  hate  the  senate, 
like  Sevcrus,  or  Aurclian  ;  he  might  even  meditate 
their  extermination,  like  the  brutal  Maximin.  But  this 
arose  from  any  cause  rather  than  from  contempt.  He 
hated  them  precisely  hecause  he  feared  them,  or  be- 
cause he  paid  them  an  involuntary  tribute  of  supersti- 
tious reverence,  or  because  the  malice  of  a  tyrant 
interpreted  into  a  sort  of  treason  the  rival  influence  of 
the  senate  over  the  minds  of  men.  But,  before  Dio- 
clesian,  the  undervaluing  of  the  senate,  or  the  harshest 
treatment  of  that  body,  had  arisen  from  views  which 
were  jwrsonal  to  the  individual  Caesar.  It  was  now 
made  to  arise  from  the  very  constitution  of  the  office 


250  THE    C-ESARS. 

and  the  mode  of  the  appointment.  To  defend  the 
empire,  it  was  the  opinion  of  Dioclesian  that  a  single 
emperor  was  not  sufficient.  And  it  struck  him,  at  the 
same  time,  that  by  the  very  institution  of  a  plurality  of 
emperors,  which  was  now  destined  to  secure  the  integ- 
rity of  the  empire,  ample  provision  might  be  made  for 
the  personal  security  of  each  emperor.  He  carried  his 
plan  into  immediate  execution,  by  appointing  an  asso- 
ciate to  his  own  rank  of  Augustus  in  the  person  of 
Maximian  —  an  experienced  general ;  whilst  each  of 
them  in  effect  multiplied  his  own  office  still  farther  by 
severally  appointing  a  Caesar,  or  hereditary  prince. 
And  thus  the  very  same  partition  of  the  public  author- 
ity, by  means  of  a  duality  of  emperors,  to  which  the 
senate  had  often  resorted  of  late,  as  the  best  means  of 
restoring  their  own  republican  aristocracy,  was  now 
adopted  by  Dioclesian  as  the  simplest  engine  for  over- 
throwing finally  the  power  of  either  senate  or  army  to 
interfere  with  the  elective  privilege.  This  he  endeav- 
ored to  centre  in  the  existing  emperors  ;  and,  at  the 
same  moment,  to  discourage  treason  or  usurpation 
generally,  whether  in  the  party  choosing  or  the  party 
chosen,  by  securing  to  each  emperor,  in  the  case  of 
his  own  assassination,  an  avenger  in  the  person  of  his 
surviving  associate,  as  also  in  the  persons  of  the  two 
Caesars,  or  adopted  heirs  and  lieutenants.  The  asso- 
ciate emperor,  Maximian,  together  with  the  two  Caesars 
—  Galerius    appointed    by    himself,    and    Constantius 


i  m:    (  JESAK8.  251 

Chlorus  by  Maximum —  wer  and  tu  himself  by 

of  gratitude  ;  all  owing  their  stations  ultimately 
to  his  own  favor.  And  these  tics  he  endeavored  to 
strengthen  by  other  ties  of  affinity  ;  each  of  the 
Augusti  having  given  his  daughter  in  marriage  to  his 
own  adopted  Caesar.  And  thus  it  seemed  scarcely 
possible  that  an  usurpation  should  be  successful  against 
so  firm  a  league  of  friends  and  relations. 

The  direct  purposes  of  Dioclcsian  were  but  imper- 
il, tly  attained  ;#the  internal  peace  of  the  empire  lasted 
only  during  his  own  reign  ;  and  with  his  abdication  of 
the  empire  commenced  the  bloodiest  civil  wars  which 
has  desolated  the  world  since  the  contests  of  the  great 
triumvirate.  But  the  collateral  blow,  which  he  medi- 
tated against  the  authority  of  the  senate,  was  entirely 
successful.  Never  again  had  the  senate  any  real  influ- 
ence on  the  fate  of  the  world.  And  with  the  power 
of  the  senate  expired  concurrently  the  weight  and 
influence  of  Rome.  Dioclcsian  is  supposed  never  to 
have  seen  Rome,  except  on  the  single  occasion  when 
he  entered  it  for  the  ceremonial  purpose  of  a  triumph. 
Even  for  that  purpose  it  ceased  to  be  a  city  of  resort ; 
for  Dioclesian's  was  the  final  triumph.  And,  lastly, 
even  as  the  chief  city  of  the  empire  for  business  or 
for  pleasure,  it  ceased  to  claim  the  homage  of  man- 
kind ;  the  Ca?sar  was  already  born  whose  destiny  it 
was  to  cashier  the  metropolis  of  the  world,  and  to 
appoint  her  successor.     This  also  may  be  regarded  in 


252  THE    C^SARS. 

effect  as  the  ordinance  of  Dioclesian ;  for  lie,  by  his 
long  residence  at  Nicomedia,  expressed  his  opinion 
pretty  plainly,  that  Rome  was  not  central  enough  to 
perform  the  functions  of  a  capital  to  so  vast  an  empire ; 
that  this  was  one  cause  of  the  declension  now  become 
so  visible  in  the  forces  of  the  State  ;  and  that  some 
city,  not  very  far  from  the  Hellespont  or  the  .^Egean 
Sea,  would  be  a  capital  better  adapted  by  position  to 
the  exigencies  of  the  times. 

But  the  revolutions  effected  by  Dioclesian  did  not 
stop  here.  The  simplicity  of  its  republican  origin  had 
so  far  affected  the  external  character  and  expression 
of  the  imperial  office,  that  in  the  midst  of  luxury  the 
most  unbounded,  and  spite  of  all  other  corruptions,  a 
majestic  plainness  of  manners,  deportment,  and  dress, 
had  still  continued  from  generation  to  generation,  char- 
acteristic of  the  Roman  impcrator  in  his  intercourse 
with  his  subjects.  All  this  was  now  changed  ;  and 
for  the  Roman  was  substituted  the  Persian  dress,  the 
Persian  style  of  household,  a  Persian  court,  and  Per- 
sian manners.  A  diadem,  or  tiara  beset  with  pearls, 
now  encircled  the  temples  of  the  Roman  Augustus  ; 
his  sandals  were  studded  with  pearls,  as  in  the  Persian 
court  ;  and  the  other  parts  of  his  dress  were  in  hai 
mony  with  these.  The  prince  was  instructed  no  longer 
to  make  himself  familiar  to  the  eyes  of  men.  He 
sequestered  himself  from  his  subjects  in  the  recesses 
of  his    palace.     None,    who    sought   him,  could    any 


THE    CESARS.  253 

longer  gain  easy  admission  to  his  presence.  It  was  a 
point  of  his  new  duties  to  be  difficult  of  access  ;  and 
they  who  were  at  length  admitted  to  an  audience, 
found  him  surrounded  by  eunuchs,  and  were  expected 
to  make  their  approaches  by  genuflexions,  by  servile 
4  adorations,'  and  by  real  acts  of  worship  as  to  a  visible 
god. 

It  is  strange  that  a  ritual  of  court  ceremonies,  so 
elaborate  and  artificial  as  this,  should  first  have  been 
introduced  by  a  soldier,  and  a  warlike  soldier  like 
Dioclesian.  This,  however,  is  in  part  explained  by  his 
education  and  long  residence  in  Eastern  countries. 
But  the  same  eastern  training  fell  to  the  lot  of  Con- 
stantinc,  who  was  in  effect  his  successor ; 58  and  the 
Oriental  tone  and  standard  established  by  these  two 
emperors,  though  disturbed  a  little  by  the  plain  and 
military  bearing  of  Julian,  and  one  or  two  more  em- 
perors of  the  same  breeding,  finally  re-established  itself 
with  undisputed  sway  in  the  Byzantine  court. 

Meantime  the  institutions  of  Dioclesian,  if  they  had 
destroyed  Rome  and  the  senate  as  influences  upon  the 
course  of  public  affairs,  and  if  they  had  destroyed  the 
Roman  features  of  the  Caesars,  do,  notwithstanding, 
appear  to  have  attained  one  of  their  purposes,  in 
limiting  the  extent  of  imperial  murders.  Travelling 
through  the  brief  list  of  the  remaining  Ca?sars,  we 
perceive  a  little  more  security  for  life;  and  hence  the 
successions   are  loss    rapid.      Constantino,   who    (like 


234  THE    C.ESA.RS. 

Aaron's  rod)  had  swallowed  up  all  liis  competitors 
seriatim,  left  the  empire  to  his  three  sons  ;  and  the 
last  of  these  most  unwillingly  to  Julian.  That  prince's 
Persian  expedition,  so  much  resembling  in  rashness 
and  presumption  the  Russian  campaign  of  Xapoleon, 
though  so  much  below  it  in  the  scale  of  its  tragic 
results,  led  to  the  short  reign  of  Jovian  (or  Jovinian), 
which  lasted  only  seven  months.  Upon  his  death 
succeeded  the  house  of  Valentinian,59  in  whose  de- 
scendant, of  the  third  generation,  the  empire,  properly 
speaking,  expired.  For  the  seven  shadows  who  suc- 
ceeded, from  Avitus  and  Majorian  to  Julius  Xepos  and 
Romulus  Augustulus,  were  in  no  proper  sense  Roman 
emperors,  —  they  were  not  even  emperors  of  the  West, 
—  but  had  a  limited  kingdom  in  the  Italian  peninsula. 
Valentinian  the  Third  was,  as  we  have  said,  the  last 
emperor  of  the  West. 

But,  in  a  fuller  and  ampler  sense,  recurring  to  what 
we  have  said  of  Dioclesian  and  the  tenor  of  his  great 
revolutions,  we  may  affirm  that  Probus  and  Cams  were 
the  final  representatives  of  the  majesty  of  Rome:  for 
they  reigned  over  the  whole  empire,  not  yet  incapable 
of  sustaining  its  own  unity ;  and  in  them  were  still 
preserved,  not  yet  obliterated  by  oriental  effeminacy, 
those  majestic  features  which  reflected  republican 
consuls,  and,  through  them,  the  senate  and  people  of 
Rome.  That,  which  had  offended  Dioclesian  in  the 
condition   of  the  Roman  emperors,  was  the   grandest 


THE    CJE8AB8.  255 

feature  of  their  dignity.  It  is  true  that  the  peril  of 
the  office  had  become  intolerable ;  each  Caesar  sub- 
mitted to  his  sad  inauguration  with  a  certainty,  liable 
even  to  hardly  any  disguise  from  the  delusions  of 
youthful  hope,  that  for  him,  within  the  boundless  em- 
pire which  he  governed,  there  was  no  coast  of  safety, 
no  shelter  from  the  storm,  no  retreat,  except  the  grave, 
from  the  dagger  of  the  assassin.  Gibbon  has  described 
the  hopeless  condition  of  one  who  should  attempt  to 
fly  from  the  wrath  of  the  almost  omnipresent  emperor. 
But  this  dire  impossibility  of  escape  was  in  the  end 
dreadfully  retaliated  upon  the  emperor ;  persecutors 
and  traitors  were  found  everywhere :  and  the  vindic- 
tive or  the  ambitious  subject  found  himself  as  omni- 
present as  the  jealous  or  the  offended  emperor. 

The  crown  of  the  Caesars  was  therefore  a  crown  of 
thorns;  and  it  must  be  admitted,  that  never  in  this 
world  have  rank  and  power  been  purchased  at  so 
awful  a  cost  in  tranquillity  and  peace  of  mind.  The 
steps  of  Caesar's  throne  were  absulutcly  saturated  with 
the  blood  of  those  who  had  possessed  it :  and  so  in- 
exorable was  that  murderous  fate  which  overhung  that 
gloomy  eminence,  that  at  length  it  demanded  the  spirit 
of  martyrdom  in  him  who  ventured  to  ascend  it.  In 
these  circumstances,  some  change  was  imperatively 
demanded.  Human  nature  was  no  longer  equal  to 
the  terrors  which  it  was  summoned  to  face.  But  the 
changes  of  Dioclcsian  transmuted  that  golden  sceptre 


256  THE    C^SARS. 

into  a  base  oriental  alloy.  They  left  nothing  behind 
of  what  had  so  much  challenged  the  veneration  of 
man :  for  it  was  in  the  union  of  republican  simplicity 
with  the  irresponsibility  of  illimitable  power  —  it  was 
in  the  antagonism  between  the  merely  human  and  ap- 
proachable condition  of  Coosar  as  a  man,  and  his  divine 
supremacy  as  a  potentate  and  king  of  kings  —  that 
the  secret  lay  of  his  unrivalled  grandeur.  This  per- 
ished utterly  under  the  reforming  hands  of  Dioclcsian. 
Caesar  only  it  was  that  could  be  permitted  to  extinguish 
Ceesar :  and  a  Roman  imperator  it  was  who,  by  re- 
modelling, did  in  affect  abolish,  by  exorcising  from  its 
foul  terrors,  did  in  effeat  disenchant  of  its  sanctity,  that 
imperatorial  dignity,  which  having  once  perished,  could 
have  no  second  existence,  and  which  was  undoubtedly 
the  sublimest  incarnation  of  power,  and  a  monument 
the  mightiest  of  greatness  built  by  human  hands,  which 
upon  this  planet  has  been  suffered  to  appear. 


NOTES. 

Note  1.     Page  9. 
Concerning  this  question  —  once  so  fervidly  debated,  yet  so 
unprofitable  for  the  final  adjudication,  and  in  some  respects,  we 
may  add,  so  erroneously  —  on  a  future  occasion. 

Note  2.     Page  10. 

Or  even  of  modern  wit;  witness  the  vain  attempt  of  so  many 
eminent  jcti,  and  illustrious  Antecessors,  to  explain  in  self-con- 
sistency the  differing  functions  of  the  Roman  Caesar,  and  in  what 
sense  he  was  legibus  solutus.  The  origin  of  this  difficulty  we 
shall  soon  understand. 

Note  3.     Page  12. 

*  Nameless  city.'  —  The  true  name  of  Rome  it  was  a  point  of 
religion  to  conceal;  and,  in  fact,  it  was  never  revealed. 

Note  4.     Page  16. 

This  we  mention,  because  a  great  error  has  been  sometimes 
committed  in  exposing  their  error,  that  consisted,  not  in  suppos- 
ing that  for  a  fifth  time  men  were  to  be  gathered  under  one 
sceptre,  and  that  sceptre  wielded  by  Jesus  Christ,  but  in  sup- 
posing that  this  great  era  had  then  arrived,  or  that  with  no 
deeper  moral  revolution  men  could  be  fitted  for  that  yoke. 

Note  5.     Page  20. 

*  Of  ancient  /lays.'  —  For  it  is  remarkable,  and  it  serves  to 
mark  an  indubitable  progress  of  mankind,  that,  before  the  Chris- 
tian era,  famines  were  of  frequent  occurrence  in  countries  the 
most  civilized;  afterwards  tiny  became  rare,  and  latterly  have 
entirely  altera!  their  character  into  occasional  dearths. 

22  [257] 


258  NOTES. 


Note  6.  Page  20. 
Unless  that  hand  wei*e  her  own  armed  against  herself ;  upon 
which  topic  there  is  a  burst  of  noble  eloquence  in  one  of  the  an- 
cient Panegyrici,  when  haranguing  the  Emperor  Theodosius  :  — 
'  Thou,  Rome  !  that,  having  once  suffered  by  the  madness  of  China, 
and  of  the  cruel  Marius  raging  from  banishment,  and  of  Sylla, 
that  won  his  wreath  of  prosperity  from  thy  disasters,  and  of 
Caesar,  compassionate  to  the  dead,  didst  shudder  at  every  blast  of 
the  trumpet  filled  by  the  breath  of  civil  commotion,  —  thou,  that, 
besides  the  wreck  of  thy  soldiery  perishing  on  either  side,  didst 
bewail,  amongst  thy  spectacles  of  domestic  woe,  the  luminaries  of 
thy  senate  extinguished,  the  heads  of  thy  consuls  fixed  upon  a 
halberd,  weeping  for  ages  over  thy  self-slaughtered  Catos,  thy 
headless  Ciceros  (truncosque  Cicerones),  and  unburied  Pompeys; 
—  to  whom  the  party  madness  of  thy  own  children  had  wrought 
in  every  age  heavier  woe  than  the  Carthaginian  thundering  at  thy 
gates,  or  the  Gaul  admitted  within  thy  walls;  on  whom  (Emathia, 
more  fatal  than  the  day  of  Allia,  —  Collina,  more  dismal  than 
Cannae,  —  had  inflicted  such  deep  memorials  of  wounds,  that, 
from  bitter  experience  of  thy  own  valor,  no  enemy  was  to  thee  so 
formidable  as  thyself;  —  thou,  Rome  !  didst  now  for  the  first  time 
behold  a  civil  war  issuing  in  a  hallowed  prosperity,  a  soldiery 
appeased,  recovered  Italy,  and  for  thyself  liberty  established. 
Now  first  in  thy  long  annals  thou  didst  rest  from  a  civil  war  in 
such  a  peace,  that  righteously,  and  with  maternal  tenderness, 
thou  mightst  claim  for  it  the  honors  of  a  civic  triumph.' 

Note  7.     Page  23. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  emperor  was  more  of  a  sacred  and  divine 
creature  in  his  lifetime  than  after  his  death.     His  consecrated 
character   as   a   living   ruler  was  a  truth;  his   canonization,  a 
fiction  of  tenderness  to  his  memory. 

Note  8.     Page  38. 

It  is  an  interesting  circumstance  in  the  habits  of  the  ancient 
Romans,  that  their  journeys  were  pursued  very  much  in  the 
night-time,  and  by  torch-light.  Cicero,  in  one  of  his  letters, 
speaks  of  passing  through  the  towns  of  Italy  by  night,  as  a  ser- 


NOTES.  259 

viccable  scheme  for  some  political  purpose,  either  of  avoiding  loo 
much  to  publish  his  motions,  or  of  evading  the  necessity  (else 
perhaps  not  avoidable),  of  drawing  out  the  party  sentiments  of 
the  magistrates  in  the  circumstances  of  honor  or  neglect  with 
which  they  might  choose  to  receive  him.  His  words,  however, 
imply  that  the  practice  was  by  no  means  an  uncommon  one. 
And,  indeed,  from  Borne  passages  in  writers  of  the  Augustan  era, 
it  would  seem  that  this  custom  was  not  confined  to  people  of  dis- 
tinction, but  was  familiar  to  a  class  of  travellers  so  low  in  rank 
as  to  be  capable  of  abusing  their  opportunities  of  concealment  for 
the  infliction  of  wanton  injury  upon  the  woods  and  fences  which 
bounded  the  margin  of  the  high-road.  Under  the  cloud  of  night 
aud  solitude,  the  mischief-loving  traveller  was  often  in  the  habit 
Of  applying  his  torch  to  the  withered  boughs  of  woods,  or  to  arti- 
ficial hedges;  and  extensive  ravages  by  fire,  such  as  now  happen 
not  unfrequently  in  the  American  woods,  (but  generally  from 
carelessness  in  scattering  the  glowing  embers  of  a  fire,  or  even 
the  asln-s  of  a  pipe,)  were  then  occasionally  the  result  of  mere 
Wantonness  of  mischief.  Ovid  accordingly  notice-,  as  one  amongst 
the  familiar  images  of  daybreak,  the  half-burnt  torch  of  the  trav- 
eller; and,  apparently,  from  the  position  which  it  holds  in  his 
description,  where  it  is  ranked  with  the  most  familiar  of  all  cir- 
cumstances in  all  countries,  —  that  of  the  rural  laborer  going  out 
to  his  morning  bisks,  —  it  must  have  been  common  indeed  : 

1  Semiustamque  facem  vigilata  nocte  viator 
Ponet;  et  ad  solitum  rustieus  ibit  opus.' 

This  occurs  in  the  Fasti;  —  elsewhere  he  notices  it  for  its 
danger : 

'  Ut  facibus  sepes  ardent,  cum  forte  viator 
Vel  nimis  admovit,  veljam  sub  luce  reliquhV 

He,  however,  we  sec,  good-naturedly  ascribes  the  danger  to  mere 

carelessness,  in  bringing  the  torch  t tear  to  the  hedge,  or  tossing 

it  away  at  daybreak.  But  Varro,  a  more  matter-of-fact  observer, 
does  not  disguise  the  plain  truth,  that  these  disasters  were  often 
tin'  product  of  pure  malicious  frolic.  For  instance,  in  recom- 
mending a  certain  kind  of  quicksel  fence,  he  insists  upon  it,  as 
one  of  its  advantages,  that  it  will  not  readily  ignite  under  the 


200  NOTES. 

torch  of  the  mischievous  wayfarer;  *  Naturale  sepimentum,'  sayg 
he,  '  quod  obseri  solet  virgultis  aut  spinis,  pratcreuntis  lascivi 
non  metuet  faccm.'     It  is  not  easy  to  see  the  origin  or  advantage 
of  this  practice  of  nocturnal  travelling  (which  must  have  consid- 
erably increased  the  hazards  of  a  journey),  excepting  only  in  the 
heats  of  summer.     It  is  probable,  however,  that  men  of  high 
rank  and  public  station  may  have  introduced  the  practice  by  way 
of  releasing  corporate  bodies  in  large  towns  from  the  burdensome 
ceremonies  of  public   receptions  ;    thus   making   a   compromise 
between  their  own  dignity  and  the  convenience  of  the  provincial 
public.     Once  introduced,  and  the  arrangements  upon  the  road 
for  meeting  the  wants  of  travellers  once  adapted  to  such  a  prac- 
tice, it  would  easily  become  universal.     It  is,  however,  very  pos- 
sible that  mere  horror  of  the  heats  of  day-time  may  have  been  the 
original  ground  for  it.     The  ancients  appear  to  have  shrunk  from 
no  hardship  so  trying  and  insufferable  as  that  of  heat.     And  in 
relation  to  that  subject,  it  is  interesting  to  observe  the  way  in 
which  the  ordinary  use  of  language  has  accommodated  itself  to 
that  feeling.     Our  northern  way  of  expressing  effeminacy  is  de- 
rived chiefly  from  the  hardships  of  cold.     He  that  shrinks  from 
the  trials  and  rough  experience  of  real  life  in  any  department,  is 
described  by  the  contemptuous  prefix  of  chimney-corner,  as  if 
shrinking  from  the  cold  which  he  would  meet  on  coming  out  into 
the  open  air  amongst  his  fellow-men.     Thus,  a  chimney-corner 
politician,  for  a  mere  speculator  or  unpractical  dreamer.     But 
the  very  same  indolent  habit  of  aerial  speculation,  which  courts 
no  test  of  real  life  and  practice,  is  described  by  the  ancients  under 
the  term  umbracticus,  or  seeking  the  cool  shade,  and  shrinking 
from  the  heat.     Thus,  an  umbracticus  doctor  is  one  who  has  no 
practical  solidity  in  his  teaching.     The  fatigue  and  hardship  of 
real  life,  in  short,  is  represented  by  the  ancients  under  the  uni- 
form image  of  heat,  and  by  the  moderns  under  that  of  cold. 

Note  9.     Page  41 

According  to  Suetonius,  the  circumstances  of  this  memorable 
night  were  as  follows  :  —  As  soon  as  the  decisive  intelligence  was 
received,  that  the  intrigues  of  his  enemies  had  prevailed  at  Rome, 
and  that  the  interposition  of  the  popular  magistrates  (the  trib- 
unes) was  set  aside,  Caesar  sent  forward  the  troops,  who  were 


NOTES.  261 

then  at  his  head-quarters,  but  in  as  private  a  manner  as  possible. 
JIc  himself,  i>y  way  of  masque  (per  dissimulationem),  attended 

a  public  spectacle,  gave  au  audience  to  an  architect  who  wished 
to  l:i\-  before  him  a  plan  for  a  school  of  gladiators  which  Caesar 

designed  to  build,  and  finally  presented  himself  at  a  banquet, 
which  was  very  numerously  attended.  From  this,  about  sunset, 
lie  set  forward  in  a  carriage,  drawn  by  mules,  and  with  a  small 
escort  (modico  comitate).  Losing  his  road,  which  was  the  most 
private  he  could  find  (occultissimuiu),  he  quitted  his  carriage 
and  proceeded  on  foot.  At  dawn  he  met  with  a  guide;  after 
which  followed  the  above  Incidents. 

Note  10.     Page  61. 

Middleton's  Life  of  Cicero,  which  still  continues  to  be  the  most 
readable  digest  of  these  affairs,  is  feeble  and  contradictory.  He 
discovers  that  Caesar  was  no  general  !  And  the  single  merit 
which  his  work  was  supposed  to  possess,  viz.  the  better  and  more 
critical  arrangement  of  Cicero's  Letters,  in  respect  to  their 
chronology,  has  of  late  years  been  detected  as  a  robbery  from  the 
celebrated  liellenden,  of  James  the  First's  time. 

Note  11.  Page  55. 
Suetonius,  speaking  of  this  conspiracy,  says,  that  Caesar  was 
nominates  inter  socios  Catilinee,  which  has  been  erroneously 
understood  to  mean  that  he  was  talked  of  as  an  accomplice;  but 
in  fact,  as  Casaubon  first  pointed  out,  nominatus  is  a  technical 
term  of  the  Roman  jurisprudence,  and  means  that  he  was  for- 
mally denounced. 

Note  12.  Page  64. 
Ctesar  had  the  merit  of  being  the  first  person  to  propose  the 
daily  publication  of  the  acts  and  votes  of  the  senate.  In  the  form 
of  public  and  official  despatches,  he  made  also  some  useful  innova- 
tions; and  it  may  be  mentioned,  for  the  curiosity  of  the  incident, 
that  the  cipher  which  ho  used  in  his  correspondence,  was  the 
following  very  simple  one  :  —  For  every  letter  of  the  alphabet  he 
substituted  that  which  stood  fourth  removed  from  it  in  the  order 
of  succession.     Thus,  for  A,  he  used  D;  for  D,  G,  and  so  on. 


262  NOTES. 


Note  13.     Page  80. 
'  The  painful  warrior,  famoused  for  fight, 
After  a  thousand  victories  once  foil'd, 
Is  from  the  book  of  honor  razed  quite, 

And  all  the  rest  forgot  for  which  he  toil'd.' 

Shaks2>eare,s  Somiets 

Note  14.  Page  80. 
And  this  was  entirely  by  the  female  side.  The  family  descent 
6T  the  first  six  Ceesars  is  so  intricate,  that  it  is  rarely  understood 
accurately;  so  that  it  may  be  well  to  state  it  briefly.  Augustus 
was  grand  nephew  to  Julius  Coesar,  being  the  son  of  his  sister's 
daughter.  He  was  also,  by  adoption,  the  son  of  Julius.  He 
himself  had  one  child  only,  viz.  the  infamous  Julia,  who  was 
brought  him  by  his  second  wife  Scribonia;  and  through  this  Julia 
it  was  that  the  three  princes,  who  succeeded  to  Tiberius,  claimed 
relationship  to  Augustus.  On  that  emperor's  last  marriage  with 
Livia,  he  adopted  the  two  sons  whom  she  had  borne  to  her  di- 
vorced husband.  These  two  noblemen,  who  stood  in  no  degree 
of  consanguinity  whatever  to  Augustus,  were  Tiberius  and  Drusus. 
Tiberius  left  no  children;  but  Drusus,  the  younger  of  the  two 
brothers,  by  his  marriage  with  the  younger  Antonia  (daughter 
of  Mark  Anthony),  had  the  celebrated  Germanicus,  and  Claudius 
(afterwards  emperor).  Germanicus,  though  adopted  by  his 
uncle  Tiberius,  and  destined  to  the  empire,  died  prematurely. 
But,  like  Banquo,  though  he  wore  no  crown,  he  left  descendants 
who  did.  For,  by  his  marriage  with  Agrippina.  a  daughter  of 
Julia's  by  Agrippa  (and  therefore  grand-daughter  of  Augustus), 
he  had  a  large  family,  of  whom  one  son  became  the  Emperor 
Caligula;  and  one  of  the  daughters,  Agrippina  the  younger,  by 
her  marriage  with  a  Roman  nobleman,  became  the  mother  of  the 
Emperor  Nero.  Hence  it  appears  that  Tiberius  was  uncle  to 
Claudius,  Claudius  was  uncle  to  Caligula,  Caligula  wag  uncle  to 
Nero.  But  it  is  observable,  that  Nero  and  Caligula  stood  in 
another  degree  of  consanguinity  to  each  other  through  their 
grandmothers,  who  were  both  daughters  of  Mark  Anthony  the 
triumvir;  for  the  elder  Antonia  mirried  the  grandfather  of  Nero; 
the  younger  Antonia  (as  we  have  stated  above)  married  Drusus, 


W0XE8.  2G3 

the  grandfather  of  Caligula;  and  again,  by  these  two  ladies,  they 
were  connected  not  only  with  each  other,  but  also  with  the  Julian 
bouse,  for  the  two  Antoniaa  were  daughters  of  Mark  Anthony  by 
Octavia,  Bister  to  Augustus. 

Note  15.     Page  96. 
But  a  memorial  stone,  in  its  inscription,  makes  the  time  longer  : 
'  Quamlo  urbs  per  novem  dies  arsit  Neronianis  temporibus.' 

Note  1G.  Page  10G. 
At  tliis  early  hour,  witnesses,  sureties,  &c.,  ami  all  concerned 
in  the  law  courts,  came  up  to  Rome  from  villas,  country  towns, 
&c.  But  no  ordinary  call  existed  to  summon  travellers  in  the 
opposite  direction;  which  accounts  for  the  comment  of  the  trav- 
ellers on  the  errand  of  Nero  and  his  attendants. 

Note  17.  Page  113. 
We  may  add  that  the  unexampled  public  grief  which  followed 
the  death  of  Otho,  exceeding  even  that  which  foil.. wed  the  death 
of  Germanicus,  and  causing  several  officers  to  commit  suicide, 
implies  some  remarkable  goodness  in  this  Prince,  and  a  very 
unusual  power  of  conciliating  attachment. 

Note  18.  Page  117. 
Blackwell,  in  his  Court  of  Augustus,  vol.  i.  p.  382,  when  no- 
ticing these  lines,  upon  occasion  of  the  murder  of  Cicero,  in  the 
final  proscription  under  the  last  triumvirate,  comments  thus  : 
'  Those  of  the  greatest  and  truly  Roman  spirit  had  been  murdered 
in  the  field  by  Julius  Ciesar  :  the  rest  were  now  massacred  in  the 
city  by  his  son  and  successors;  in  their  room  came  Syrians,  Cap- 
padocians,  Phrygians,  and  other  enfranchised  slaves  from  the 
conquered  nations; '  —  « these  in  half  a  century  had  sunk  so  low, 
that  Tiberius  pronounced  her  very  senators  to  be  homines  ad 
tervitutem  itatus,  men  born  to  be  slaves.' 

Nik  L9.     Page  117. 
Suetonius  indeed  pretends  that  Augustus,  personally  at  least, 

struggled  against  this  ruinous  practice  —  thinking  it  a  matter  of 

the  highest  moment,  '  Bincerum  atque  ab  omni  colluvione  pere- 


264  NOTES. 

grini  et  servilis  sanguinis  incorruptum  scrvare  poptdum.'  And 
Horace  is  ready  with  his  flatteries  on  the  same  topic,  lib.  3,  Od.  6. 
But  the  facts  are  against  them;  for  the  question  is  not  what 
Augustus  did  in  his  own  person,  (which  at  most  could  not  operate 
very  widely  except  by  the  example,)  but  what  he  permitted 
to  be  done.  Now  there  was  a  practice  familiar  to  those  times : 
that  when  a  congiary  or  any  other  popular  liberality  was  an- 
nounced, multitudes  were  enfranchised  by  avaricious  masters  in 
order  to  make  them  capable  of  the  bounty  (as  citizens),  and  yet 
under  the  condition  of  transferring  to  their  emancipators  what- 
soever they  should  receive;  ira  ror  d^tiootvig  didofievov  atror  kau- 
Sarorrec  y.ara  fitjva — (piQwot  ton;  Stfiuir.uxsi  t>;v  i).ti6iQiav,  says 
Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  in  order  that  after  receiving  the  corn 
given  publicly  in  every  month,  they  might  carry  it  to  those  who 
had  bestowed  upon  them  their  freedom.  In  a  case,  then,  where 
an  extensive  practice  of  this  kind  was  exposed  to  Augustus,  and 
publicly  reproved  by  him,  how  did  he  proceed  ?  Did  he  reject 
the  new-made  citizens  ?  No;  he  contented  himself  with  diminish- 
ing the  proportion  originally  destined  for  each,  so  that  the  same 
absolute  sum  being  distributed  among  a  number  increased  by  the 
whole  amount  of  the  new  enrolments,  of  necessity  the  relative 
sum  for  each  separately  was  so  much  less.  But  this  was  a  rem- 
edy applied  only  to  the  pecuniary  fraud  as  it  would  have  affected 
himself.     The  permanent  mischief  to  the  state  went  unredressed. 

Note  20.  Page  118. 
Part  of  the  story  is  well  known,  but  not  the  whole.  Tiberius 
Nero,  a  promising  young  nobleman,  had  recently  married  a  very 
splendid  beauty.  Unfortunately  for  him,  at  the  marriage  of 
Octavia  (sister  to  Augustus)  with  Mark  Anthony,  he  allowed  his 
young  wife,  then  about  eighteen,  to  attend  upon  the  bride.  Au- 
gustus was  deeply  and  suddenly  fascinated  by  her  charms,  and 
without  further  scruple  sent  a  message  to  Nero  —  intimating  that 
he  was  in  love  with  his  wife,  and  would  thank  him  to  resign  her. 
The  other,  thinking  it  vain,  in  those  days  of  lawless  proscription, 
to  contest  a  point  of  this  nature  with  one  who  commanded  twelve 
legions,  obeyed  the  requisition.  Upon  some  motive,  now  un- 
known, he  was  persuaded  even  to  degrade  himself  farther;  for  he 
actually  officiated  at  the  marriage  in  character  of  father,  and 


NOTES.  265 

gave  away  the  young  beauty  to  bis  rival,  although  tit  that  time 
6ix  months  advanced  in  pregnancy  by  himself.  These  humiliat- 
ing concessions  were  extorted  from  him,  and  yielded  (probably 
at  the  instigation  of  friends)  In  order  to  save  his  life.  In  the 
sequel  thej  had  the  very  opposite  result;  for  he  died  soon  after, 
and  it  is  reasonably  supposed  of  grief  and  mortification.  At  the 
mai'j  i,  .hi  incident  occurred  which  threw  the  whole  i 

pany  into  confusicn  :    A  little  boy,  roving  from  couch  to  c h 

among  the  guests,  came  at  length  to  that  in  which  Livia  (the 
bride)  was  lying  By  the  side  of  Augustus,  on  which  he  cried  out 
aloud, —  '  Lady,  what  are  you  doing  here?  You  are  mistaken  — 
this  is  not  your  husband  —  he  is  there,'  (pointing  to  Tiberius,) 
'  go,  go  —  rise,  lady,  an  1  recline  beside  him.'' 

Note '21.  Page  121. 
Augustus,  indeed,  strove  to  exclude  the  women  from  one  part 
of  the  circension  Spectacles;  and  what  was  that  ?  Simply  from 
the  sight  of  the  Athletes,  as  being  naked.  But  that  they  should 
witness  the  pangs  of  the  dying  gladiators,  he  deemed  quite  allow- 
able. The  smooth  barbarian  considered,  that  a  license  of  the 
first  sort  offended  against  decorum,  whilst  the  other  violated  only 
the  sanctities  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  whole  sexual  character 
of  women.  It  is  our  opinion,  that  to  the  brutalizing  effect  of 
these  exhibitions  we  arc  to  ascribe,  not  mily  the  early  extinction 
of  the  Roman  drama,  but  generally  the  inferiority  of  Rome  to 
Greece  in  every  department  of  the  fine  arts.  The  fine  temper  of 
Roman  sensibility,  which  no  culture  could  have  brought  to  the 
level  of  the  Grecian,  was  thus  dulled  for  every  application. 

Note  22.  Page  130. 
No  fiction  of  romance  present-  so  awful  a  picture  of  the  ideal 
tyrant  as  that  of  Caligula  by  Suetonius.  1  lis  palace  —  radiant 
with  purple  and  gold,  but  murder  everywhere  lurking  beneath 
flowers:  his  smiles  and  echoing  laughter — masking  (yet  hardly 
meant  to  mask)  his  foul  treachery  of  heart;  bis  hideous  and  tu- 
multuous  dreams  —  his  baffled  sleep  —  and  his  aleepless  nights  — 
compose  the  picture  of  an  ASschylus.     What  a  master's  sketch 

lies    in    these   few   lilies:   '  Ineitahatur    insomnio   maxiiue;   neque 
eniin  plus  tribus  horis  noctornis  quiescebat;  ac  ne  his  placida 
23 


266  KOTES. 

quiete,  at  pavida  niiris  reruni  imaginibus;  ut  qui  inter  ceteras 
pelagi  quondam  speciem  colloquentem  secum  videre  visas  sit. 
Ideoque  magna  parte  noctis,  vigilse  cubandique  tsedio,  nunc  toro 
residens,  nunc  per  longissimas  porticus  vagus,  invocare  identi- 
dem  at(|ue  exspectare  lucem  consueverat  : '  —  i.e.  '  But,  above 
all,  he  was  tormented  with  nervous  irritation,  by  sleeplessness  ; 
for  he  enjoyed  not  more  than  tbree  hours  of  nocturnal  repose  ; 
nor  these  even  in  pure  untroubled  rest,  but  agitated  by  phantas- 
mata  of  portentous  augury;  as,  for  example,  upon  one  occasion 
he  fancied  that  he  saw  the  sea,  under  some  definite  impersona- 
tion, conversing  with  himself.  Hence  it  was,  and  from  this  in- 
capacity of  sleeping,  and  from  weariness  of  lying  awake,  that  he 
had  fallen  into  habits  of  ranging  all  the  night  long  through  the 
palace,  sometimes  throwing  himself  on  a  couch,  sometimes  wan- 
dering along  the  vast  corridors,  watching  for  the  earliest  dawn, 
and  anxiously  invoking  its  approach. 

Note  23.    Page  132. 
And  hence  we  may  the  better  estimate  the  trial  to  a  Roman's 
feelings  in  the  personal  deformity  of  baldness,  connected  with  the 
Roman  theory  of  its  cause,  for  the  exposure  of  it  was  perpetual. 

Note  '24.     Page  133. 

*  Expeditiones  sub  eo,'  says  Spartian,  '  graves  nulloe  fuerunt. 
Bella  etiam  silentio  pene  transacta.'  But  he  does  not  the  less 
add,  '  A  militibus,  propter  curam  exercitus  nimiam,  multum 
amatus  est.' 

Note  25.  Page  134. 
In  the  true  spirit  of  Parisian  mummery,  Bonaparte  caused 
letters  to  be  written  from  the  War-office,  in  his  own  name,  to 
particular  soldiers  of  high  military  reputation  in  every  brigade, 
(whose  private  history  he  had  previously  caused  to  be  investi- 
gated,) alluding  circumstantially  to  the  leading  facts  in  their 
personal  or  family  career;  a  furlough  accompanied  this  letter, 
and  they  were  requested  to  repair  to  Paris,  where  the  emperor 
anxiously  desired  to  see  them.  Thus  was  the  paternal  interest 
expressed,  which  their  leader  took  in  each  man's  fortunes;  and 


NOTES.  267 

the  effect  of  cL  letter,  it  was  nut  doubted,  would  diftuso 

itself  through  ten  thousand  other  men. 


Note2G.    Page  185. 

•  War  in  product*  —  a  phrase  of  Milton's  in  Paradise  Re- 
gained, which  strikingly  illustrates  his  love  of  Latin  phraseology; 

for  unless  to  a  scholar,  previously  acquainted  with  the  Latin 
phrase  of  in  procinctn,  it  is  so  absolutely  unintelligible  as  to 
interrupt  the  current  of  the  feeling. 

Note  27.     Page  136. 

'Cry/its'  —  these,  which  Spartian,  in  his  life  of  Hadrian, 
denominates  simply  cryptte,  are  the  same  which,  in  the  Roman 
jurisprudence,  and  in  the  architectural  works  of  the  Romans, 
yet  surviving,  are  termed  hyjiogau  deambulationes,  i.  e.  subter- 
ranean parades.  Vitruvius  treats  of  this  luxurious  class  of 
apartments  in  connection  with  the  Apolhecce,  and  other  reposi- 
tories or  store-rooms,  which  were  also  in  many  cases  under- 
ground, (for  the  same  reason  as  our  ice-houses,  wine-cellars,  &c. 
He  (and  from  him  Pliny  and  Apollonaris  Sidonius)  calls  them 
crypto-porticus  (cloistral  colonnades);  and  Ulpian  calls  them 
refugia  (sanctuaries,  or  places  of  refuge);  St.  Ambrose  notices 
them  under  the  name  of  hypogtea  and  u mbrosa  penetralia,  as  the 
resorts  of  voluptuaries:  Luxuriosorum  est,  says  he,  liyjiogaa 
quterere —  captantium  frigus  cestivum;  and  again  lie  speaks  of 
desidiosi  qui  ignava  sub  terris  agaiit  otia. 

Note  28.     Page  136. 

*  The  topiary  art'  —  so  called,  as  Salmasius  thinks,  from 
T07r/;iov,  a  rope;  because  the  process  of  construction  was  con- 
ducted Aiefly  by  mean-  of  cords  and  strings.  This  art  was 
much  practised  in  the  17th  century;  and  Casaubon  describes  one, 
which  existed  in  his  early  days  somewhere  in  the  suburbs  of 
Paris,  on  so  elaborate  a  scale,  that  it  represented  Tiny  besieged, 
with  the  two  hosts,  their  several  leaders,  and  all  other  objects  in 
their  full  proportion. 


268  NOTES. 


Note  20.  Page  137. 
Very  remarkable  it  is,  and  a  fact  which  speaks  volumes  as  to 
the  democratic  constitution  of  the  Roman  army,  in  the  midst  of 
that  aristocracy  which  enveloped  its  parent  state  in  a  civil  sense, 
that  although  there  was  a  name  for  a  common  soldier  (or  senti- 
nel, as  he  was  termed  by  our  ancestors)  — viz.  miles  gregarivs, 
or  miles  manipularis  —  there  was  none  for  an  officer ;  that  is  to 
say,  each  several  rank  of  officers  had  a  name;  but  there  was  no 
generalization  to  express  the  idea  of  an  officer  abstracted  from 
its  several  species  or  classes. 

Note  30.     Page  139. 

Vitis :  and  it  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  that  this  staff,  or 
cudgel,  which  was  the  official  engine  and  cognizance  of  the  Cen- 
turion's dignity,  was  meant  expressly  to  be  used  in  caning  or 
cudgelling  the  inferior  soldiers  :  '  Propterea  vitis  in  nianum 
data,'  says  Salmasius,  *  verberando  scilicet  militi  qui  deliquisset.' 
We  are  no  patrons  of  corporal  chastisement,  which,  on  the  con- 
trary, as  the  vilest  of  degradations,  we  abominate.  The  soldier, 
who  does  not  feel  himself  dishonored  by  it,  is  already  dishonored 
beyond  hope  or  redemption.  But  still  let  this  degradation  not 
be  imputed  to  the  English  army  exclusively. 

Note  31.    Page  145. 

In  the  original  ter  millies,  which  is  not  much  above  two  mil- 
lions and  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  sterling;  but 
it  must  be  remembered  that  one  third  as  much,  in  addition  to 
this  popular  lai'gess,  had  been  given  to  the  army. 

Note  32.     Page  145. 

■  nam   bene  gesti   rebus,    vel  potius  feliciter,  etsi  non 

summi  —  medii  tamen  obtinuit  ducis  famam.' 

Note  33.     Page  146. 

This,  however,  is  a  point  in  which  royal  personages  claim  an 

old  prescriptive  right  to  be  unreasonable  in  their  exactions  ;  and 

some,  even  amongst  the  most  humane  of  Christian  princes,  have 

erred  as  flagrantly  as  JElius  Verus.     George  IV.  we  have  under- 


NOTES.  269 

stood,  was  generally  escorted  from  Dalkeith  to  Holyrood  at  a 
rate  of  twenty-two  miles  an  hour.  And  of  hie  father,  the  truly 
kind  and  paternal  king,  it  is  recorded  by  Miss  Hawkins,  ('laugh- 
ter of  Sir  J.  Hawkins,  the  biographer  of  Johnson,  >ve.)  that 
families  \\h<>  happened  to  have  a  son,  brother,  lover,  &c.  in  the 
particular  regiment  of  cavalry  which  furnished  the  escort  for  the 
day,  used  to  sutler  as  much  anxiety  for  the  result  as  on  the  eve 
of  a  great  battle. 

Note  34.  Page  154. 
And  not  impossibly  of  America  ;  for  it  must  be  remembered 
that,  when  we  speak  of  this  quarter  of  the  earth  as  yet  undiscov- 
ered, we  mean  —  to  ourselves  of  the  western  climates;  since  as 
respects  the  eastern  quarters  of  Asia,  doubtless  America  was 
known  there  familiarly  enough;  and  the  high  bounties  of  imperial 
Rome  on  rare  animals,  would  sometimes  perhaps  propagate  their 
influence  even  to  those  regions. 

Note  35.     Page  155. 

In  default  of  whalebone,  one  is  curious  to  know  of  what  they 
were  made  :  —  thin  tablets  of  the  linden-tree,  it  appears,  were 
the  best  materials  which  the  Augustus  of  that  day  could  com- 
mand. 

Note  30.  Page  156. 
There  is,  however,  a  good  deal  of  delusion  prevalent  on  such 
subjects.  In  some  English  cavalry  regiments,  the  custom  is  for 
the  privates  to  take  only  one  meal  a  day,  which  of  course  is  din- 
ner; and  by  some  curious  experiments  it  has  appeared  that  such 
a  mode  of  life  is  the  healthiest.  But  at  the  same  time  we  have 
rtained  that  the  quantity  of  porter  or  substantial  ale  drunk 
in  these  regiments  docs  virtually  allow  many  meals,  by  compar- 
ison with  the  washy  tea  breakfasts  of  most  Englishmen. 

Note  37.     Page  169. 

So  much  improvement  had   Christianity  already  accomplished 

in  the  feelings  of  men  since  the  time  of  Augustus.     That  prince, 

in  whose  reign  the  Founder  of  this  ennobling  religion  was  born, 

had  delighted  so  much  and  indulged  so  freely  in  the  spectacles 


270  XOTES. 

of  the  amphitheatre,  that  Maecenas  summoned  him  reproachfully 
to  leave  them,  saying,  '  Surge  tandem,  carnifex.' 

It  is  the  remark  of  Capituline,  that  '  gladiatoria  spectacula 
omnifariam  temper  avit;  tempcravit  etiam  scenicas  donationes  ; ' 
—  he  controlled  in  every  possible  way  the  gladiatorial  specta- 
cles ;  he  controlled  also  the  rates  of  allowance  to  the  stage  per- 
formers. In  these  latter  reforms,  which  simply  restrained  the 
exorbitant  salaries  of  a  class  dedicated  to  the  public  pleasures, 
and  unprofitable  to  the  State,  Marcus  may  have  had  no  farther 
view  than  that  which  is  usually  connected  with  sumptuary  laws. 
But  in  the  restraints  upon  the  gladiators,  it  is  impossible  to 
believe  that  his  highest  purpose  was  not  that  of  elevating  human 
nature,  and  preparing  the  way  for  still  higher  regulations.  As 
little  can  it  be  believed  that  this  lofty  conception,  and  the  sense 
of  a  degradation  entailed  upon  human  nature  itself,  in  the  spec- 
tacle of  human  beings  matched  against  each  other  like  brute 
beasts,  and  pouring  out  their  blood  upon  the  arena  as  a  libat:on 
to  the  caprices  of  a  mob,  could  have  been  derived  from  any  other 
source  than  the  contagion  of  Christian  standards  and  Christian 
sentiments,  then  beginning  to  pervade  and  ventilate  the 
atmosphere  of  society  in  its  higher  and  philosophic  regions. 
Christianity,  without  expressly  affirming,  everywhere  indirectly 
supposes  and  presumes  the  infinite  value  and  dignity  of  man  as  a 
creature,  exclusively  concerned  in  a  vast  and  mysterious  economy 
of  restoration  to  a  state  of  moral  beauty  and  power  in  some 
former  age  mysteriously  forfeited.  Equally  interested  in  its  ben- 
efits, joint  heirs  of  its  promises,  all  men,  of  every  color,  language, 
and  rank,  Gentile  or  Jew,  were  here  first  represented  as  in  one 
sense  (and  that  the  most  important)  equal;  in  the  eye  of  this 
religion,  they  were,  hy  necessity  of  logic,  equal,  as  equal  partici- 
pators in  the  ruin  and  the  restoration.  Here  first,  in  any  avail- 
able sense,  was  communicated  to  the  standard  of  human  nature 
a  vast  and  sudden  elevation;  and  reasonable  enough  it  is  to 
suppose,  that  some  obscure  sense  of  this,  some  sympathy  with  the 
great  changes  for  man  then  beginnn  to  operate,  would  first  of 
all  reach  the  inquisitive  students  of  philosophy,  and  chiefly  those 
in  high  stations,  who  cultivated  an  intercourse  with  all  the  men 
of  original  genius  throughout  the  civilized  world.  The  Emperor 
Hadrian  had  already  taken  a  solitary  step  in  the  improvement 


NOTES.  271 

of  human  nature;  and  not,  we  may  belie  e,  without  some  rab- 
oonscious  influence  received  directly  or  indirectly  from  Christian- 
ity, in,  with  respect  to  Marcus,  it  is  hardly  conceivable 
that  he,  a  prince  bo  indulgent  and  popular,  could  have  thwarted, 
and  v  iolently  gainsaid,  a  primary  impulse  of  the  Roman  popo 
without  some  adequate  motive;  and  none  could  be  adequate 
which  was  not  built  upon  some  new  and  exalted  views  of  human 
nature,  with  which  these  gladiatorial  Bacrifiees  were  altogether 
at  war.  The  reforms  which  Marcus  introduced  into  these  '  cru- 
delissima  spectacular  all  having  the  common  purpose  of  limiting 
their  extent,  were  three.  First,  he  Bet  bounds  to  the  extreme 
cost  of  these  exhibitions;  and  this  restriction  of  the  cost  covertly 
operated  as  a  restriction  of  the  practice.  Secondly,  —  and  this 
ordinance  to  k  effect  whenever  he  was  personally  present,  if  not 
oftener,  —  he  commanded,  on  great  occasions,  that  these  displays 

Bhould  be  bl Hess.     Dion  Cassius  notices  this  fact  in  the  fol- 

lowing  words  :  —  'The  Emperor  Marcus  was  bo  far  from  taking 

delight  in   spectacles  of  bl Ished,  that  even  the  gladiators  in 

If 6  could  not  obtain  his  inspection   of  their  contests,   unless, 

like  the  wrestlers,  they  contended  without  imminent  risk;  for  he 
never  allowed  them  the  use  of  sharpened  weapons,  but  univer- 
sally they  fought  before  him  with  weapons  previously  blunted.' 
Thirdly,  he  repealed  the  old  and  uniform  regulation,  which 
secured  to  the  gladiators  a  perpetual  immunity  from  military 
service.  This  necessarily  diminished  their  available  amount. 
Being  now  liable  to  serve  their  country  usefully  in  the  field  of 
battle,  whilst  the  concurrent  limitation  of  the  expenses  in  this 
direction  prevented  any  proportionate  increase  of  their  numbers, 
they  were  so  much  the  less  disposable  in  aid  of  the  public  luxury. 
His  fatherly  care  of  all  classes,  and  the  universal  benignity  with 
which  he  attempted  to  raise  the  abject  estimate  and  condition  of 
even  the  lowest  Pari, tit*  in  his  vast  empire,  appears  in  another 
little  anecdote,  relating  to  a  class  of  men  equally  with  the  gladia- 
tors given  up  to  the  service  of  luxury  in  a  haughty  and  cruel 
populace.  Attending  one  day  at  an  exhibition  of  rope-dancing, 
one  of  the  performers  (a  hoy)  fell  and  hurt  himself;  from  which 
time  the  paternal  emperor  would  never  allow  the  rope-dancers  to 
perform  without  mattresses  or  feather-beds  spread  below,  to 
mitigate  the  violence  of  their  falls. 


272  NOTES. 


Note  38.     Page  160. 
Marcus  had  been  associated,  as  Ciesar,  and  as  emperor,  with 
the  son  of  the  late  beautiful  Verus,  who  is  usually  mentioned  by 
the  same  name. 

Note  39.  Page  163. 
Because  the  most  effectual  extinguishers  of  all  ambition  applied 
in  that  direction;  since  the  very  excellence  of  any  particular 
fabric  was  the  surest  pledge  of  its  virtual  suppression  by  means 
of  its  legal  restriction  (which  followed  inevitably)  to  the  use  of 
the  imperial  house. 

Note  40.     Page  165. 

Upon  which  some  mimographus  built  an  occasional  notice  of 
the  scandal  then  floating  on  the  public  breath  in  the  following 
terms  :  One  of  the  actors  having  asked  '  Who  was  the  adulterous 
paramour  1  '  receives  for  answer,  Tullus.  Who  ?  he  asks 
again  ;  and  again  for  three  times  running  he  is  answered, 
Tullus.  But  asking  a  fourth  time,  the  rejoinder  is,  Jam  dixi 
ter  Tullus. 

Note  41.     Page  166. 

In  reality,  if  by  divus  and  divine  honors  we  understand  a  saint 
or  spiritualized  being  having  a  right  of  intercession  with  the  Su- 
preme Deity,  and  by  his  temple,  &c,  if  we  understand  a  shrine 
attended  by  a  priest  to  direct  the  prayers  of  his  devotees,  there 
is  no  such  wide  chasm  between  this  pagan  superstition  and  the 
adoration  of  saints  in  the  Romish  church,  as  at  first  sight  ap- 
pears. The  fault  is  purely  in  the  names  :  divus  and  tcmplum  are 
words  too  undistinguishing  and  generic. 

Note  42.  Page  168. 
Not  long  after  this  Alexander  Severiis  meditated  a  temple  to 
Christ;  upon  which  design  Lampridius  observes,  —  Quod  et 
Hadrianus  cogitasse  fertur  ;  and,  as  Lampridius  was  himself  a 
pagan,  we  believe  him  to  have  been  right  in  his  report,  in  spite 
of  all  which  has  been  written  by  Casaubon  and  others,  who 
maintain  that  these  imperfect  temples  of  Hadrian  were  left  void 


NOTES.  273 

of  nil  images  or  idols,  —  not  in  reaped  to  the  Christian  practice, 
but  beo  rase  he  designed  them  eventually  to  be  dedicated  to  him- 
self. However,  be  this  as  it  may,  thus  much  appears  on  the  face 
of  the  story,  —  that  Christ  and  Christianity  had  by  tint  time 
begun  to  challenge  the  imperial  attention;  and  of  this  there  is 
au  indirect  indication,  as  it  has  been  interpreted,  even  in  the 
memoir  of  Marcus  himself.  The  passage  is  this  :  '  Fama  fuit 
Bane  quod  sub  philosophorum  specie  quidam  rempublicam  vexa- 
rent  et  privates. '  The  philosojmi,  here  mentioned  by  Capitoline, 
are  by  some  supposed  to  be  the  Christians;  and  for  many  reasons 
mi-  believe  it;  and  we  understand  the  molestatii  ns  of  the  public 
services  and  of  private  individuals,  here  charged  upon  them,  as 
a  very  natural  reference  to  the  Christian  doctrines  falsely  under- 
stood. There  is,  by  the  way,  a  fine  remark  upon  Christianity, 
made  by  an  infidel  philosopher  of  Germany,  which  suggests  a 
remarkable  feature  in  the  merits  of  Marcus  Aurelius.  There 
weir,  as  this  German  philospher  used  to  observe,  two  schemes 
of  thinking  amongst  the  ancients,  which  severally  fulfilled  the 
two  functions  of  a  sound  philosophy  as  respected  the  moral  nature 
of  man.  One  of  these  schemes  presented  us  with  a  just  ideal  of 
moral  excellence,  a  standard  sufficiently  exalted  ;  this  was  tho 
Stoic  philosophy;  and  thus  far  its  pretensions  were  unexception- 
able and  perfect.  But  unfortunately,  whilst  contemplating  this 
pure  ideal  of  man  as  he  ought  to  be,  the  Stoic  totally  forgot  the 
frail  nature  of  man  as  he  is;  and  by  refusing  all  compromises 
and  all  condescensions  to  human  infirmity,  this  philosophy  of  the 
Porch  presented  to  us  a  brilliant  prize  and  object  for  our  efforts, 
but  placed  on  an  inaccessible  height. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  was  a  very  different  philosophy  at 
the  very  antagonist  pole,  —  not  blinding  itself  by  abstractions  too 
elevated,  submitting  to  what  it  finds,  bending  to  the  absolute 
(acts  and  realities  of  man's  nature,  and  affably  adapting  itself  to 
human  imperfections.  There  was  the  philosophy  of  Epicurus; 
and  undoubtedly,  as  a  beginning,  and  for  the  elementary  pur- 
pose of  conciliating  the  affections  of  the  pupil,  it  was  well  devised ; 
but  here  the  misfortune  was,  that  the  ideal,  or  maximum  per- 
fections, attainable  by  human  nature,  was  pitched  so  low,  that 
the  humility  of  its  condescensions  and  the  excellence  of  its  means 
were  all  to   no  purpose,  as  leading    to    nothing    further.     One 


274  NOTES- 

mode  presented  a  splendid  end,  but  insulated,  and  with  no  means 
fitted  to  a  human  aspirant  for  communicating  with  its  splendors; 
the  other,  an  excellent  road,  but  leading  to  no  worthy  or  propor- 
tionate  end.  Yet  these,  as  regarded  morals,  were  the  best  and 
ultimate  achievements  of  the  pagan  world.  Now  Christianity, 
said  he,  is  the  synthesis  of  whatever  is  separately  excellent  in 
either.  It  will  abate  as  little  as  the  haughtiest  Stoicism  of  the 
ideal  which  it  contemjilates  as  the  first  postulate  of  true  moral- 
ity; the  absolute  holiness  and  purity  which  it  demands  are  as 
much  raised  above  the  poor  performances  of  actual  man,  as  the 
absolute  wisdom  and  impeccability  of  the  Stoic.  Yet,  unlike  the 
Stoic  scheme,  Christianity  is  aware  of  the  necessity,  and  provides 
for  it,  that  the  means  of  appropriating  this  ideal  perfection 
should  be  such  as  are  consistent  with  the  nature  of  a  most  erring 
and  imperfect  creature.  Its  motion  is  towards  the  divine,  but 
by  and  through  the  human.  In  fact,  it  offers  the  Stoic  human- 
ized in  his  scheme  of  means,  and  the  Epicurean  exalted  in  his 
final  objects.  Nor  is  it  possible  to  conceive  a  practicable  scheme 
of  morals  which  should  not  rest  upon  such  a  synthesis  of  the  two 
elements  as  the  Christian  scheme  presents ;  nor  any  other  mode 
of  fulfilling  that  demand  than  such  a  one  as  is  there  first  brought 
forward,  viz.,  a  double  or  Janus  nature,  which  stands  in  an 
equivocal  relation,  —  to  the  divine  nature  by  his  actual  perfec- 
tions, to  the  human  nature  by  his  participation  in  the  same 
animal  frailties  and  capacities  of  fleshly  temptation.  No  other 
vinculum  could  bind  the  two  postulates  together,  of  an  absolute 
perfection  in  the  end  proposed,  and  yet  of  utter  imperfection  in 
the  means  for  attaining  it. 

Such  was  the  outline  of  this  famous  tribute  by  an  unbelieving 
philosopher  to  the  merits  of  Christianity  as  a  scheme  of  moral 
discipline.  Now,  it  must  be  remembered  that  Marcus  Aurelius 
was  by  profession  a  Stoic;  and  that  generally,  as  a  theoretical 
philosopher,  but  still  more  as  a  Stoic  philosopher,  he  might  be 
supposed  incapable  of  descending  from  these  airy  altitudes  of 
speculation  to  the  true  needs,  infirmities,  and  capacities  of  hu- 
man nature.  Yet  strange  it  is,  that  he,  of  all  the  good  emperors, 
was  the  most  thoroughly  human  and  practical.  In  evidence  of 
which,  one  body  of  records  is  amply  sufficient,  which  is,  the  very 
extensive  and  wise  reforms  which  he,  beyond  all  the  Coasars, 


NOTES.  275 

executed  in  the  existing  laws.  To  all  tlic  exigencies  of  the  times, 
and  to  all  the  new  necessities  developed  by  the  prog  ess  of 
society,  lio  adjusted  the  old  laws,  or  supplied  uew  ones.  The 
same  praise,  therefore,  belongs  to  him,  which  the  German  phi- 
losopher conceded  to  Christianity,  of  reconciling  the  aust< 
ideal  with  the  practical;  and  lunre  another  argument  for  pre- 
suming him  half  baptized  into  the  new  faith. 

Note  43.     Page  182. 

Amongst  these  institutions,  none  appear  to  us  so  remarkable, 
or  fitted  to  accomplish  so  prodigious  a  circle  of  purposes  belong- 
ing to  the  highest  state  policy,  as  the  Roman  method  of  coloniza- 
tion. Colonics  were,  in  effect,  the  great  engine  of  Roman  con- 
quest; and  the  following  are  among  a  few  of  the  great  ends  to 

Which  they  were  applied.  First  of  all,  how  came  it  that  the 
early  armies  of  Rome  served,  and  served  cheerfully,  without 
pay?  Simply  because  all  who  were  victorious  knew  that  they 
■would  receive  their  arrears  in  the  fullest  and  amplest  form  upon 
their  fmal  discharge,  viz.,  in  the  shape  of  a  colonial  estate  — 
large  enough  to  rear  a  family  in  comfort,  and  seated  in  the  midst 
of  similar  allotments,  distributed  to  their  old  comrades  in  arms. 
These  lands  were  already,  perhaps,  in  high  cultivation,  being 
often  taken  from  conquered  tribes;  but,  if  not,  the  new  occu- 
pants could  rely  for  aid  of  every  sort,  for  social  intercourse,  and 
for  all  the  offices  of  good  neighborhood  upon  the  surrounding 
proprietors  —  who  were  sure  to  be  persons  in  the  same  circum- 
stances as  themselves,  and  draughted  from  the  same  legion. 
For  be  it  remembered,  that  in  the  primitive  ages  of  Rome,  con- 
cerning which  it  is  that  we  are  now  speaking,  entire  legions  — 
privates  and  officers  —  were  transferred  in  one  body  to  the  new 
colony.  '  Antiquitus,'  says  the  learned  Goesius,  « deducebantur 
Integra  legiones,  quibus  porta  victoria.'  Neither  was  there 
much  waiting  for  this  honorary  gift.  In  later  ages,  it  is  true, 
when  such  resources  were  less  plentiful,  and  when  regular  pay 
was  given  to  the  soldiery,  it  was  the  veteran  only  who  obtained 
this  splendid  provisi  a;  but  in  the  earlier  times,  a  single  fortu- 
nate campaign  nol  Beldom  dismissed  the  young  recruit  to  a  life 
of  ea^'  and  honor.  '  Multis legionibus,'  says  Hyginus,  •  contigit 
bellum  feliciter  transigere,  et  ad  laboriosam  agriculture  requiem 


276  xotes. 

primo  tyrocinii  gradu  purvenire.  Nam  cum  signis  et  aquila  et 
primis  ordiuibus  et  tribunia  deducebantur.'  Tacitus  also  notices 
t'ais  organization  of  the  early  colonies,  and  adds  the  reason  of  it, 
and  its  happy  effect,  when  contrasting  it  with  the  vicious  ar- 
rangements of  the  colonizing  system  in  his  own  days.  *  Olim,' 
says  he,  '  universal  legiones  deducebantur  cum  tribunis  et  cen- 
turionibus,  et  siri  cujusque  ordinis  militibus,  ut  consensu  et 
charitate  republican  efficerent.'  Secondly,  not  only  were  the 
troops  in  this  way  at  a  time  when  the  public  purse  was  unequal 
to  the  expenditure  of  war  —  but  this  pay,  being  contingent  on 
the  successful  issue  of  the  war,  added  the  strength  of  self-interest 
to  that  of  patriotism  in  stimulating  the  soldier  to  extraordinary 
efforts.  Thirdly,  not  only  did  the  soldier  in  this  way  reap  his 
pay,  but  also  he  reaped  a  reward  (and  that  besides  a  trophy  and 
perpetual  monument  of  his  public  services) ,  so  munificent  as  to 
constitute  a  permanent  provision  for  a  family;  and  accordingly 
he  was  now  encouraged,  nay,  enjoined,  to  marry.  For  here  was 
an  hereditary  landed  estate  equal  to  the  liberal  maintenance  of 
a  family.  And  thus  did  a  simple  people,  obeying  its  instinct  of 
conquest,  not  only  discover,  in  its  earliest  days,  the  subtle  prin- 
ciple of  Machiavel  —  Let  war  support  war;  but  (which  is  far 
more  than  Machiavel's  view)  they  made  each  present  war  sup- 
port many  future  wars  —  by  making  it  support  a  new  offset  from 
the  population,  bound  to  the  mother  city  by  indissoluble  ties  of 
privilege  and  civic  duties;  and  in  many  other  ways  they  made 
every  war,  by  and  through  the  colonizing  system  to  which  it 
gave  occasion,  serviceable  to  future  aggrandizement.  War,  man- 
aged in  this  way,  and  with  these  results,  became  to  Rome  what 
commerce  or  rural  industry  is  to  other  countries,  viz.,  the  only 
hopeful  and  general  way  for  making  a  fortune.  Fourthly,  by 
means  of  colonies  it  was  that  Rome  delivered  herself  from  her 
surplus  population.  Prosperous  and  well-governed,  the  Roman 
citizens  of  each  generation  outnumbered  those  of  the  generation 
preceding.  But  the  colonies  provided  outlets  for  these  continual 
accessions  of  people,  and  absorbed  them  faster  than  they  could 
arise.*     And  thus  the  great  original  sin  of  modern  States,  that 


*  And  in  this  way  we  must  explain  the  fact  —  that,  in  the 
many  successive  numerations  of  the  people  continually  noticed  by 


NOTES.  277 

heel  of  Achillea  in  which  they  arc  all  vulnerable,  and  which 
(generally  speaking)  becomes  more  oppressive  to  the  public  pros- 
perity as  that  prosperity  happens  to  be  greater,  (for  in  poor 
States  and  cinder  despotic  governments,  this  evil  does  not  exist,) 
that  flagrant  infirmity  of  our  own  country,  G  r  whicb  no  states- 
man has  devised  any  commensurate  remedy,  was  to  ancient  Home 
;l  perpetual  foundation  and  well-head  of  public  strength  and  en- 
larged resources.  With  us  of  modern  times,  when  population 
greatly  outruns  the  demand  tor  labor,  whether  it  be  under  the 
stimulus  of  upright  government,  and  just  laws  justly  adminis- 
tered, in  combination  with  the  manufacturing  system  (as  in 
England),  or  (as  in  Ireland)  under  the  stimulus  of  idle  habits, 
cheap  subsistence,  and  a  low  standard  of  comfort — we  think  it 
much  it'  we  can  keep  down  insurrection  by  the  bayonet  and  the 
sabre.  Luero  ponarmts  is  our  cry,  if  we  can  effect  even  thus 
much;  whereas  Rome,  in  her  simplest  and  pastoral  days,  con- 
verted this  menacing  danger  and  standing  opprobrium  of  modern 
statesmanship  to  her  own  immense  benefit.  .Not  satisfied  merely 
to  have  neutralized  it.  she  drew  from  it  the  vital  resources  of  her 
martial  aggrandizement.  For,  Fifthly,  these  colonies  were  in 
two  ways  made  the  corner-stones  of  her  martial  policy  :  1st, 
They  were  looked  to  as  nurseries  of  their  armies;  during  one 
generation  the  original  colonists,  already  trained  to  military 
habits,  wen-  themselves  disposable  for  this  purpose  on  any  great 
emergency;  these  men  transmitted  heroic  traditions  to  their  pos- 
terity; and,  at  all  events,  a  more  robust  population  was  always 
at  hand  in  agricultural  colonies  than  could  be  had  in  the  metrop- 
olis. Cato  the  elder,  and  all  the  early  writers,  notice  the  quality 
of  such  levies  as  being  tor  superior  to  those  drawn  from  a  popu- 
lation of  Bedentary  habits.  2dly,  The  Italian  colonies,  one  and 
all,  performed  the  functions  which  in  our  day  are  assigned  to 
garrisoned  towns  and  frontier  fortresses.  In  the  earliest  times 
they  discharged  a  still  more  critical  service,  by  sometimes  en- 

Livy  and  others,  we  do  not  find  that  sort  of  multiplication  which 
we  might  have  looked  tor  in  a  State  so  ably  governed.  The 
truth  is,  that  the  continual  surpluses  had  been  carried  off  by  the 
oolonizing  drain,  before  they  could  become  noticeable  or  trouble- 
some. 


278  NOTES. 

tirely  displacing  a  hostile  population,  and  more  often  by  dividing 
it,  and  breaking  its  unity.  In  cases  of  desperate  resistance  to 
the  Roman  arms,  marked  by  frequent  infraction  of  treaties,  it 
was  usual  to  remove  the  offending  population  to  a  safer  situa- 
tion, separated  from  Rome  by  the  Tiber;  sometimes  entirely  to 
disperse  and  scatter  it.  But,  where  these  extremities  were  not 
called  for  by  expediency  or  the  Roman  maxims  of  justice,  it  was 
judged  sufficient  to  interpolate,  as  it  were,  the  hostile  people  by 
colonizations  from  Rome,  which  were  completely  organized  *  for 
mutual  aid,  having  officers  of  all  ranks  dispersed  amongst  them, 
and  for  overawing  the  growth  of  insurrectionary  movements 
amongst  their  neighbors.  Acting  on  this  system,  the  Roman 
colonies  in  some  measure  resembled  the  English  Pale,  as  exist- 
ing at  one  era  in  Ireland.  This  mode  of  service,  it  is  true,  be- 
came obsolete  in  process  of  time,  concurrently  with  the  dangers 
which  it  was  shaped  to  meet;  for  the  whole  of  Italy  proper, 
together  with  that  part  of  Italy  called  Cisalpine  Gaul,  was  at 
length  reduced  to  unity  and  obedience  by  the  almighty  republic. 
But  in  forwarding  that  great  end,  and  indispensable  condition 
towards  all  foreign  warfare,  no  one  military  engine  in  the  whole 
armory  of  Rome  availed  so  much  as  her  Italian  colonies.  The 
other  use  of  these  colonies,  as  frontier  garrisons,  or,  at  any  rate, 
as  interposing  between  a  foreign  enemy  and  the  gates  of  Rome, 
they  continued  to  perform  long  after  their  earlier  uses  had 
passed  away;  and  Cicero  himself  notices  their  value  in  this  view. 
'  Colonias,'  says  he  [Oral,  in  RuUum],  'sic  idoneis  in  locis 
contra  suspicionem  periculi  collacarunt,  ut  esse  non  oppida 
Italiae  sed  propugnacula  imperii  viderentur.'  Finally,  the 
colonies  were  the  best  means  of  promoting  tillage,  and  the  cul- 
ture of  vineyards.  And  though  this  service,  as  regarded  the 
Italian  colonies,  was  greatly  defeated  in  succeeding  times  by  the 
ruinous  largesses  of  corn  [frumentationes],  and  other  vices  of  the 
Roman   policy   after   the  vast  revolution  effected   by   universal 

*  That  is  indeed  involved  in  the  technical  term  of  Deductio  ; 
for  unless  the  ceremonies,  religious  and  political,  of  inauguration 
and  organization,  were  duly  complied  with,  the  colony  was  not 
entitled  to  be  considered  as  deducta  —  that  is,  solemnly  and  cere- 
monially transplanted  from  the  metropolis. 


notes.  279 

luxury,  it  is  not  the  lose  true  that,  left  to  themselves  and  their 
natural  tendency,  the  Roman  colonies  Would  have  yielded  this 
lasl  benefit  as  certainly  as  any  other.  Large  volumes  exist, 
illustrated  by  the  Learning  of  Rigaltius,  Salmasius,  and  Goesius, 
upon  the  mere  technical  arrangements  of  the  Roman  colonies; 
and  whole  libraries  might  be  -written  on  these  .same  colonies, 
idered  as  engines  of  exqui  policy. 


Note  44.     Page  101- 

On  this  occasion  we  may  notice  that  the  final  execution  of  the 
vengeance  projected  by  Maternus,  was  reserved  for  a  public  fes- 
tival, exactly  corresponding  to  the  modern  carnival;  ami  from 
an  expression  used  by  Herodian.it  is  plain  that  masquerading 
had  been  an  ancient  practice  in  Home. 


Note  45.     Page  192. 
See  Casaubon's  notes  upon  Theophrastus. 

Note  46.     Page  193. 

Viz.  the  Temple  of  Peace;  at  that  time  the  most  magnificent 
edifice  in  Rome.  Temples,  it  is  well  known,  were  the  places  used 
in  ancient  times  as  banks  of  deposit.  For  this  function  they 
were  admirably  fitted  by  their  inviolable  sanctity. 

Note  47.     Page  104. 

What  a  prodigious  opportunity  for  the  zoologist  ! — And  con- 
sidering that  these  shows  prevailed  for  five  hundred  years,  during 
all  which  period  the  amphitheatre  gave  bounties,  as  it  were,  to 
the  hunter  and  the  fowler  of  every  climate,  and  that,  by  means 
of  a  stimulus  so  constantly  applied,  scarcely  any  animal,  the 
shyest,  rarest,  fiercest,  escaped  the  demands  of  the  arena,  — no 
one  fact  so  much  illustrates  the  inertia  of  the  public  mind  in 
days,  and  the  indifference  to  all  scientific  pursuits,  as  that 
no  annotator  should  have  risen  to  Pliny  the  elder  —  no  rival  to 
the  immortal  tutor  of  Alexander. 


280  NOTES. 


Note  48.  Page  198. 
It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that,  under  any  suspension  of  the  im- 
peratoriai  power  or  office,  the  senate  was  the  body  to  whom  the 
Roman  mind  even  yet  continued  to  turn.  In  this  case,  both  to 
color  their  crime  with  a  show  of  public  motives,  and  to  interest 
this  great  body  in  their  own  favor  by  associating  them  in  their 
own  dangers,  the  conspirators  pretended  to  have  found  a  long 
roll  of  senatorial  names  included  in  the  same  page  of  condemna- 
tion with  their  own.     A  manifest  fabrication. 

Note  49.     Page  199. 
Historians  have  failed  to  remark  the  contradiction   between 
this  statement  and  the  allegation  that  Lsetus  selected  Pertinax 
for  the  throne  on  a  consideration  of  his  ability  to  protect  the 
assassins  of  Commodus. 

Note  50.     Page  223. 
And  it  is  a  striking  illustration  of  the  extent  to  which  the  rev- 
olution had  gone,  that,  previously  to  the  Persian  expedition  of 
the  last  Gordian,  Antioch,  the  Roman  capital  of  Syria,  had  been 
occupied  by  the  enemy. 

Note  51.  Page  224. 
This  Arab  emperor  reigned  about  five  years;  and  the  jubilee 
celebration  occurred  in  his  second  year.  Another  circumstance 
gives  importance  to  the  Arabian,  that,  according  to  one  tradition, 
he  was  the  first  Christian  emperor.  If  so,  it  is  singular  that  one 
of  the  bitterest  persecutors  of  Christianity  should  have  been  his 
immediate  successor  —  Decius. 

Note  52.  Page  224. 
It  has  proved  a  most  difficult  problem,  in  the  hands  of  all 
speculators  upon  the  imperial  history,  to  fathom  the  purposes, 
or  throw  any  light  upon  the  purposes,  of  the  Emperor  Decius,  in 
attempting  the  revival  of  the  ancient  but  necessarily  obsolete 
office  of  a  public  censorship.     Either  it  was  an  act  of  pure  verbal 


NOTES.  281 

pedantry,  or  a  mere  titular  decoratii  o  of  honor,  (as  if  a  modern 
prinoe  Bhoold  create  a  person  Arch-Grand-Elector,  with  no  ob- 
jects assigned  to  his  electing  faculty,)  or  else,  if  it  really  meant 
to  revive  the  old  duties  of  the  censorship,  and  to  assign  the  very 
same  field  for  the  exercise  of  those  duties,  it  must  be  viewed  as 
the  very  grossest  practical  anachronism  that  has  ever  been  com- 
mitted.     We  mean  by  an  anachronism,  hi  common  usage,  that 
sort  of  blunder  when  a  man  ascribes  to  one  age  the  habits,  cus- 
toms, or  generally  the  characteristics  of  another.    This,  however, 
may  be  a  mere   lapse  of  memory,  as  to  a  matter  of  fact,    and 
implying  nothing  at  all  discreditable  to  the  understanding,  but 
only  that  a  man  has  shifted  the  boundaries  of  chronology  a  little 
this   way  or   that;  as   if,  for  example,  a  writer  should  speak  of 
printed  books  as  existing  at  the  day  <>f  Agincourt,  or  of  artillery 
as  existing  in  the  first  Crusade,  here  would  be  an  error,  but  a 
venial  one.     A  far  worse  kind  of  anachronism,  though  rarely 
noticed  as  such,  is  where  a  writer  ascribes  sentiments  and  modes 
of  thought  incapable  of  co-existing  with  the  sort  or  the  degree  of 
civilization   then   attained,    or   otherwise   incompatible  with   the 
structure  of  society  in  the  age  or  the  country  assigned.     For  in- 
stance, in  Southey's  Don  Roderick  there  is  a  cast  of  sentiment  in 
the  Gothic  king's  remorse  and  contrition  of  heart,  which  has 
struck  many  readers  as  utterly  unsuitable  to  the  social  and  moral 
development  of  that  age,   and  redolent  of  modern   methodism. 
This,  however,  we  mention  only  as  an  illustration,  without  wish- 
ing to  hazard  an  opinion  upon  the  justice  of  that  criticism.     But 
even  such  an   anachronism   is   less  startling   and   extravagant 
when    it  is  confined  to  an  ideal  representation  of  things,  than 
where  it  is  practically  embodied  and  brought  into  play  amongst 
the  realities  of  life.     What    would   be  thought  of  a  man  who 
should  attempt,  in  1833,  to  revive  the  ancient  office  of  Fool,  as  it 
existed  down  to  the  reign,  suppose,  of  our  Henry  VIII.  in  Eng- 
land ?   Yet  the  error  of  the  Emperor  Deems  was  far  greater,  if  he 
did  in  sincerity  and  good  faith  believe  that  the  Rome  of  his  times 
imenable  to  that  license  of  unlimited  correction,  and  of  inter- 
ference with  private   affairs,   which   republican  freedom  and  sim- 
plicity had  once  conceded  to  the  censor.     In  reality,  the  ancient 
censor,  in  some  parts  of  his  office,  was  neither  more  nor  less  than 
a  compendious  legislator.     Acts  of  attainder,  divorce  bills,  &c, 
24 


282  NOTES. 

illustrates  the  case  in  England;  they  are  cases  of  law,  modified 
to  meet  the  case  of  an  individual;  and  the  censor,  having  a  sort 
of  equity  jurisdiction,  was  intrusted  with  discretionary  powers  for 
reviewing,  revising,  and  amending,  pro  re  nata,  whatever  in  the 
private  life  of  a  Roman  citizen  seemed,  to  his  experienced  eye, 
alien  to  the  simplicity  of  an  austere  republic;  whatever  seemed 
vicious  or  capable  of  becoming  vicious,  according  to  their  rude 
notions  of  political  economy;  and,  generally,  whatever  touched 
the  interests  of  the  commonwealth,  though  not  falling  within  the 
general  province  of  legislation,  either  because  it  might  appear 
undignified  in  its  circumstances,  or  too  narrow  in  its  range  of 
operation  for  a  public  anxiety,  or  because  considerations  of  deli- 
cacy and  prudence  might  render  it  unfit  for  a  public  scrutiny. 
Take  one  case,  drawn  from  actual  experience,  as  an  illustration  : 
A  Roman  nobleman,  under  one  of  the  early  emperors,  had 
thought  fit,  by  way  of  increasing  his  income,  to  retire  into  rural 
lodgings,  or  into  some  small  villa,  whilst  his  splendid  mansion 
in  Rome  was  let  to  a  rich  tenant.  That  a  man  who  wore  the 
lacticlave,  (which  in  practical  eifect  of  splendor  we  may  consider 
equal  to  the  ribbon  and  star  of  a  modern  order, )  should  descend 
to  such  a  degrading  method  of  raising  money,  was  felt  as  a  scan- 
dal to  the  whole  nobility.*     Yet  what  could  be  done  ?    To  have 


*  This  feeling  still  exists  in  France.  «  One  winter,'  says  the 
author  of  The  English  Army  in  France,  vol.  ii.  p.  106-7, 
•  our  commanding  officer's  wife  formed  the  project  of  hiring  the 
chateau  during  the  absence  of  the  owner  ;  but  a  more  profound 
insult  could  not  have  been  offered  to  a  Chevalier  de  St.  Louis. 
Hire  his  house !  What  could  these  people  take  him  for  ?  A 
sordid  wretch  who  would  stoop  to  make  money  by  such  means  ? 
They  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  themselves.  He  could  never  respect 
an  Englishman  again.'  '  And  yet,'  adds  the  writer,  '  this  gen- 
tleman ( had  an  officer  been  billeted  there)  would  have  sold  him 
a  bottle  of  wine  out  of  his  cellar,  or  a  billet  of  wood  from  his 
stack,  or  an  egg  from  his  hen-house,  at  a  profit  of  fifty  per  cent., 
not  only  without  scruple,  but  upon  no  other  terms.  It  was  as 
common  as  ordering  wine  at  a  tavern,  to  call  the  servant  of  any 
man's  establishment  where  we  happened  to  be  quartered,  and 


NOTES.  283 

interfered  with  his  conduct  by  an  express  law,  would  lie  tc 
infringe  the  Bacred  rights  of  property,  and  to  Bay,  in  effect,  that 
a  in m  should  do<  'In  what  he  would  with  his  own.  This  would 
have  been  a  remedy  far  worse  than  the  evil  to  which  it  was 
applied;  nor  could  it  have  been  possible  bo  to  Bhape  the  principle 
of  a  law,  as  not  to  make  it  far  more  comprehensible  than 
desired.  The  senator's  trespass  was  in  a  matter  of  decorum, 
Irit  the  law  would  have  trespassed  on  the  first  principles  of 
justice.  Eere,  then,  was  a  case  within  the  proper  jurisdiction 
of  the  censor;  he  took  notice,  in  his  public  report,  of  the  sena- 
tor's  error;   or   probably,    before   coming   to    that   extremity,   he 

admonished  him  privately  on  the  subject.  Just  as,  in  England, 
had  there  been  such  an  officer,  he  would  have  reproved  those 
men  of  rank  who  mounted  the  coach-box,  who  extended  a  public 
patronage  to  the  'fancy,'  or  who  rode  their  own  horses  at  a 
Such  a  reproof,  however,  unless  it  were  made  practically 
operative,  and  were  powerfully  supported  by  the  whole  body  of 
the  aristocracy,  would  recoil  upon  its  author  as  a  piece  of  imper- 
tinence, and  would  soon  be  resented  as  an  unwarrantable  liberty 
taken  with  private  life;  the  censor  would  be  kicked  or  challenged 
to  private  combat,  according  to  the  taste  of  the  parties  aggrieved. 
The  office  is  clearly  in  this  dilemma  :  if  the  censor  is  supported 


demand  an  account  of  his  cellar,  as  well  as  the  price  of  the  wine 
we  selected!'  This  feeling  existed,  and  perhaps  to  the  same 
extent,  two  centuries  ago,  in  England.  Not  only  did  the  aris- 
tocracy think  it  a  degradation  to  act  the  part  of  landlord  with 
respect  to  their  own  houses,  but  also,  except  in  select  cases,  to 
act  that  of  tenant.  Thus,  the  first  Lord  Brooke  (the  famous 
Fulke  Greville),  writing  to  inform  his  next  neighbor,  a  woman 
of  rank,  that  the  house  she  occupied  hail  been  purchased  by  a 
London  citizen,  confesses  his  fears  that  he  shall  in  consequence 
lose  so  valuable  a  neighbor;  for,  doubtless,  he  adds,  your  lady- 
ship will  not    remain   as   tenant  to   '  such  a  fellow.'      Ami  yet  the 

man  had  notoriously  held  the  office  of  I. or. I  Mayor,  which  made 
him,  for  the  time.  Right  Honorable.  The  Italians  of  this  clay 
make  no  scruple  to  let  off  the  whole,  or  even  part,  of  their  fine 
mansions  to  strangers. 


284  NOTES. 

by  the  State,  then  lie  combines  in  his  own  person  both  legislative 
and  executive  functions,  and  possesses  a  power  which  is  fright- 
fully irresponsible;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  is  left  to  such  sup- 
port as  he  can  find  in  the  prevailing  spirit  of  manners,  and  the 
old  traditionary  veneration  for  his  sacred  character,  he  stands 
very  much  in  the  situation  of  a  priesthood,  which  has  great 
power  or  none  at  all,  according  to  the  condition  of  a  country  in 
moral  and  religious  feeling,  coupled  with  the  more  or  less  prim- 
itive state  of  manners.  How,  then,  with  any  rational  prospect 
of  success,  could  Decius  attempt  the  revival  of  an  office  depend- 
ing so  entirely  on  moral  supports,  in  an  age  when  all  those  sup- 
ports were  withdrawn  ?  The  prevailing  spirit  of  manners  was 
hardly  fitted  to  sustain  even  a  toleration  of  such  an  office  ;  and 
as  to  the  traditionary  veneration  for  the  sacred  character,  from 
long  disuse  of  its  practical  functions,  tltut  probably  was  altogether 
extinct.  If  these  considerations  are  plain  and  intelligible  even 
to  us,  by  the  men  of  that  day  they  must  have  been  felt  with  a 
degree  of  force  that  could  leave  no  room  for  doubt  or  speculation 
on  the  matter.  How  was  it,  then,  that  the  emperor  only  should 
have  been  blind  to  such  general  light  ? 

In  the  absence  of  all  other,  even  plausible,  solutions  of  this 
difficulty,  we  shall  state  our  own  theory  of  the  matter.  Decius, 
as  is  evident  from  his  fierce  persecution  of  the  Christians,  was 
not  disposed  to  treat  Christianity  with  indifference,  under  any 
form  which  it  might  assume,  or  however  masked.  Yet  there 
were  quarters  in  which  it  lurked  not  liable  to  the  ordinary 
modes  of  attack.  Christianity  was  creeping  up  with  inaudible 
steps  into  high  places  —  nay,  into  the  very  highest.  The  im- 
mediate predecessor  of  Decius  upon  the  throne,  Philip  the  Arab, 
was  known  to  be  a  disciple  of  the  new  faith;  and  amongst  the 
nobles  of  Rome,  through  the  females  and  the  slaves,  that  faith 
had  spread  its  roots  in  every  direction.  Some  secrecy,  however, 
attached  to  the  profession  of  a  religion  so  often  proscribed. 
Who  should  presume  to  tear  away  the  mask  which  prudence  or 
timidity  had  taken  up  ?  A  delator,  or  professional  informer, 
was  an  infamous  character.  To  deal  with  the  noble  and  illus- 
trious, the  descendants  of  the  Marcellt  and  the  Gracchi,  there 
must  be  nothing  less  than  a  great  state  officer,  supported  by  the 
censor  and  the  senate,  having  an  unlimited  privilege  of  scrutiny 


NOT  I  S.  28 ;*> 

ami  censure,  authorized  to  inflict  the  brand  of  infamy  for  oflfi 
not  challenged  by  express  law,  and  yet  emanating  from  an  elder 
institution,  familiar  to  the  days  of  reputed  liberty.     Such  an 
officer  was  the  censor;  and  such  were  the  antichristian  purp 
of  Decius  in  his  revival 

Note  03.     Page  228. 

Some  of  these  traditions  have  been  preserved,  'which  repre- 
sent Sapor  as  using  his  imperial  captive  for  his  stepping-stone, 
or  anabathrum,  in  mounting  his  horse.  Others  go  farther,  ami 
pretend  that  Sapor  actually  flayed  his  unhappy  prisoner  while 
yet  alive.  The  temptation  to  these  stories  was  perhaps  found 
in  the  craving  fur  the  marvellous,  ami  in  the  desire  to  make 
the  contrast  more  striking  between  the  two  extremes  in  Vale- 
rian's life. 

Note  54.     Page  2l>9. 

Ami  this  incompetency  was  permanently  increased  by  rebel- 
lions that  were  brief  ami  fugitive  :  for  each  insurgent  almost 
necessarily  maintained  himself  for  the  moment  by  spoliations 
ami  robberies  which  left  lasting  effects  behind  them;  ami  too 
often  he  was  tempted  to  ally  himself  with  some  foreign  enemy 
amongst  the  barbarians  ;  and  perhaps  to  introduce  him  into  the 
heart  of  the  empire. 

Note  55.     Page  232. 

Zenobia  is  complimented  by  all  historians  for  her  magna- 
nimity; but  with  no  foundation  in  truth.  Her  first  salutation 
to  Aurelian  was  a  specimen  of  abject  flattery;  and  her  last 
public  words  were  evidences  of  the  basest  treachery  in  giving  up 
her  generals,  and  her  chief  counsellor  Longinus,  to  the  vengeance 
of  the  ungenerous  enemy. 

Note  50.     Page  245. 

'  Thirteen  thousand  chambers.' — The  number  of  the  chambers 
in  this  prodigious  palace  is  usually  estimated  at  that  amount.  But 
Lady   Miller,   who   male    particular   inquiries   on    this    subject, 


286  NOTES. 

ascertained  that  the  total  amount,  including  cellars  and  closets, 
capable  of  receiving  a  bed,  was  fifteen  thousand. 

Note  57.     Page  248. 

In  no  point  of  his  policy  was  the  cunning  or  the  sagacity  of 
Augustus  so  much  displayed,  as  in  his  treaty  of  partition  with 
the  senate,  which  settled  the  distribution  of  the  provinces,  and 
their  future  administration.  Seeming  to  take  upon  himself  all 
the  trouble  and  hazard,  he  did  in  effect  appropriate  all  the 
power,  and  left  to  the  senate  little  more  than  trophies  of  show 
and  ornament.  As  a  first  step,  all  the  greater  provinces,  as 
Spain  and  Gaul,  were  subdivided  into  many  smaller  ones.  This 
done,  Augustus  proposed  that  the  senate  should  preside  over  the 
administration  of  those  amongst  them  which  were  peaceably 
settled,  and  which  paid  a  regular  tribute  ;  whilst  all  those  which 
were  the  seats  of  danger,  —  either  as  being  exposed  to  hostile 
inroads,  or  to  internal  commotions,  —  all,  therefore,  in  fact, 
which  could  justify  the  keeping  up  of  a  military  force,  he 
assigned  to  himself.  In  virtue  of  this  arrangement,  the  senate 
possessed  in  Africa  those  provinces  which  had  been  formed  out 
of  Carthage,  Cyrene,  and  the  kingdom  of  Numidia;  in  Europe, 
the  richest  and  most  quiet  part  of  Spain  (Hispania  Batica,) 
with  the  large  islands  of  Sicily,  Sardinia,  Corsica,  and  Crete, 
and  some  districts  of  Greece;  in  Asia,  the  kingdoms  of  Pontus 
and  Bithynia,  with  that  part  of  Asia  Minor  technically  called 
Asia;  whilst,  for  his  own  share,  Augustus  retained  Gaul,  Syria, 
the  chief  part  of  Spain,  and  Egypt,  the  granary  of  Rome  ; 
finally,  all  the  military  posts  on  the  Euphrates,  on  the  Danube, 
or  the  Rhine. 

Yet  even  the  showTy  concessions  here  made  to  the  senate  were 
defeated  by  another  political  institution,  settled  at  the  same  time. 
It  hail  been  agreed  that  the  governors  of  provinces  should  be 
appointed  by  the  emperor  and  the  senate  jointly.  But  within 
the  senatorial  jurisdiction,  these  governors,  with  the  title  of 
Proconsuls,  were  to  have  no  military  power  whatsoever;  and 
the  appointments  were  good  only  for  a  single  year.  Whereas,  in 
the  imperatorial  provinces,  where  the  governor  bore  the  title  of 
Propra'tor,  there  was  provision  made  for  a  military  establish- 
ment; and  as  to  duration,  the  office -was  regulated  entirely  by 


NOTES.  287 

the  emperor's  pleasure.    One  other  ordinance,  on  the 
head,   riveted   the   vassalage  of  the  Benate.     Bitherto,  a  great 
source  of  the  senate's  power  had  been  found  in  the  uncontrolled 
management  of   the   provincial    revenues  ;    hut  at  (his  time, 
Augustus  so  arranged  that  hranch  of  the  administration,  that, 
throughout  the  senatorian  or   proconsular  provinces,  all  I 
were  immediately  paid  into  the  ararium,  or  treasury  of  the  £ 
whilst  the  whole  revenues  of  the  proprsetorian  (or  imperatorial) 
provinces,    from   this    time   forward,  flowed   iuto  the  Jiacua,  or 
private  treasure  of  the  individual  emperor. 

Note  68.    Page  253. 

On  the  abdication  of  Dioclesian  and  of  Maximian,  Galerius  and 

Constantius  succeeded  as  the  new  Augusta.  But  Galerius,  as 
the  inure  immediate  representative  of  Dioclesian,  thought  him- 
self entitled  to  appoint  both  Caesars,  —  the  Baza  (or  Maximus) 
in  Syria,  Severus  in  Italy.  Meantime,  Constantine,  the  son  of 
Constantius,  with  difficulty  obtaining  permission  from  Galerius, 
paid  a  visit  to  his  father;  upon  whose  death,  which  followed 
soon  after,  Constantine  came  forward  as  a  Csesar,  under  the 
appointment  of  his  father.  Galerius  submitted  with  a  bad 
grace;  hut  Maxentius,  a  reputed  son  of  Maximian,  was  roused 
by  emulation  with  Constantine  to  assume  the  purple;  and  being 
joined  by  his  father,  they  jointly  attacked  and  destroyed 
Severus.  Galerius,  to  revenge  the  death  of  his  own  CsBSar, 
advanced  towards  Rome  ;  but  being  compelled  to  a  disastrous 
retreat,  he  resorted  to  the  measure  of  associating  another  empe- 
ror with  himself,  as  a  balance  to  his  new  enemies.  This  was 
Licinius;  and  thus,  at  one  time,  there  were  six  emperors,  either 
as  Augusti  or  as  Csesars.  Galerius,  however,  dying,  all  the  rest 
were  in  succession  destroyed  by  Constantine. 

Note  69.    Page  254. 
Valentinian  the  First,  who  admitted  hi-  brother  Valens  to  a 

paitner-hiii  in  the  empire,  had,  by  his  first  wife,  an  elder  son, 
Gratian,  who  reigned  and  associated  with  himself  Theodosius, 
commonly  called  the  Great.  By  his  second  wife  he  had  Val- 
entinian the  Second,  who,  upon  the  death  of  his  brother  Gratian, 


238  NOTES. 

was  allowed  to  share  the  empire  by  Theodosius.  Theodosius,  by 
his  first  wife,  had  two  sons,  — Arcadius,  who  afterwards  reigned 
in  the  east,  and  Honorius,  whose  western  reign  was  so  much 
illustrated  by  Stilicho.  By  a  second  wife,  daughter  to  Valen- 
tinian  the  First,  Theodosius  had  a  daughter,  (half-sister,  there- 
fore, to  Honorius,)  whose  son  was  Valentinian  the  Third. 


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